


To say I do, is to say Goodbye.

by AuthorInDistress



Series: Heirs, Marriage, and family. [1]
Category: Iron Man (Movies), Thor (Movies)
Genre: Arranged Marriage, First Times, I'm sorry I know I have WIPs going but this was a request and I couldn't help myself, M/M, Mpreg, Pressure to have a baby, alternate universe where Tony's parents live, literally following someone's prompt to the letter, set before Thor
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2013-02-19
Updated: 2015-03-17
Packaged: 2017-11-29 21:24:23
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 10
Words: 57,278
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/691592
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AuthorInDistress/pseuds/AuthorInDistress
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Born with the Carrier gene, Tony Stark is seen by Asgard as a rare gem. And, as those with this gene cannot reproduce unless they have intercourse with a member of the same sex, Howard's need for his company/family line to continue overwhelms him and he agrees to a marital bond between Tony Stark and Thor Odinson. Without consulting his son first. </p><p>But then, on the actual wedding day, Odin surprisingly changes his mind about which of his sons he wants to marry Tony, and Oh, God.</p><p>Tony's heard a whole load of rumors about this Loki, God of Trickery ...</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

  * For [jmiracles](https://archiveofourown.org/gifts?recipient=jmiracles), [http://jmiracles.tumblr.com/](/gifts?recipient=http%3A%2F%2Fjmiracles.tumblr.com%2F).



> I know, I'm sorry. I have two WIPs but I promise, each and every one of them will continue and update regularly. I will try my hardest not to let them drag on too long without an update ... promise.
> 
> Oh, also. Beware, Tony may be a teeny bit OOC in this chapter, because I may or may not have based this scene on a real-life scenario I've witnessed before.

.

The clothes are red.

They’re the typical Ceremonial red of Tony’s Family and Company, which was what he was used to and what makes all this just that little bit easier for him, but it’s the scattered gold atop it’s neck, sleeves and hemline that are made of Asgard’s sigils - and they’re what’s making him feel like even the clothes are throwing this all back into his face.

Tony runs his fingers over it, staring as it’s lain over his bed for him to lift and wear. It’s longer than most things he wears, almost like a dress, and he supposes that that’s the point. It’s a marriage after all, he needs to look his _‘best’_.

He barely notices as the servant leaves the strings on his back untied, doesn’t even look up when he hears the door open and close, but he does jerk in surprise when he feels rougher hands clutch at his arms.

“I hate these kind of ceremonies,” He murmurs softly, wincing when Howard’s fingers tighten the strings on his back for him, clasping and pulling until he can barely breathe. 

“And yet, the clothes always seem to suit you,” Tony closes his eyes, feeling hot tears of hatred well behind the lids.

“Don’t,” He says sharply, pulling away when Howard is done, and pushing the rest of the robe down over his bare legs, “Don’t try and make this better on your own conscience dad, because - “

“Don’t start this again, Anthony,” Howard sighs, rubbing his forehead, but at least he isn’t shouting. At least he isn’t screaming in Tony’s face like he had the first time Tony had heard about this. The first time Tony had heard about his own _marriage_. “We’ve discussed this all far too many times already, and I would really rather you ready yourself now, instead of working yourself up again.”

Tony’s chest rises as he struggles to hold back the anger that bubbles to his throat, but he lets it go because why argue now? This could likely be the last time he would ever see his father again, and while he hates him right now, he knows he’ll regret leaving him like this.

“But it’s not _fair_ ,” He says instead, ignoring how childish he sounds because why shouldn’t he be allowed to act young sometimes. Or just this once. His fingers still run over the silk of his clothes, but they tighten when he remembers what they mean, and there goes any self-restraint he ever had, ”None of this is, and just because I have the 'gene' or - or something, it doesn’t mean that people can just exploit that and -“

“That is _not_ what is happening here.” Howard interrupts him firmly, looking over the bed at the rest of the accessories the servant had laid out already for them, “I’ve explained it to you.”

“Yeah, and it only ends up sounding a lot more like exploiting each time you say it,” Tony turns away from him, reaching for the hairbrush on the bedside table, but his hand strays past it and opts for the comb instead.

He feels like a woman already, no need to act like one, but he’ll be damned if he goes out looking rumpled and as worn out as he feels, “You’ve told me. All my _life_ you’ve told me. You’ve said to hide this part of myself, to never let anyone use it against me and now you’re the one who's using it against me, and whenever I try to argue about it you turn it all back onto me instead. Like it's all my fault I was born this way,”

The comb catches on the knots in his hair when he yanks, but when Howard tries to take it out of his hand, he refuses to let go, “And it’s not fair.”

“Nothing in life is, Anthony, you should know that by now,” Howard grabs the hairbrush when Tony still refuses to let go of the comb, and he rakes it down over Tony’s hair; smoothing it down from where it’d risen in his sleep,

“But as a carrier, and as my son, you know how important it is you do this. With this gene, you cannot reproduce unless you are with another male, and with the politics of our country, you know I’d rather not let the company-“

“ _You’d_ rather, what about - ouch,” Tony pulls away when Howard presses down harder than necessary on his head, and takes over.

“There is more at stake here, than just your pride Anthony,” Howard glares at him, and Tony sits on the edge of the bed, brushing his hair as he looks down at his lap, “Having an heir is one of the most important things you can do for the company and for me, and with you having been born a Carrier, of all things, it’s almost impossible for you to manage even _that_ ,” 

Tony closes his eyes at Howard’s bitter disappointment and turns his face away.

“So, when Nick Fury mentioned his father - Jack’s - archive on inter-dimensional worlds, of course I joined in with all the research. And now, not only have we made contact with them on numerous occasions, but-“

“But we’ve all agreed on a pact, to keep both worlds allied,” Tony finishes for him, his voice low and flat, “I know this, you bragged about it constantly to me, I just didn’t think that it’d affect _me_ in the long run.”

“Don’t be dense, Anthony, of course it’d affect you. It affects everyone in one way or another, and this is one of the better circumstances, believe me, because-“

“How,” Tony stands, letting the hairbrush fall and bounce at his feet on the floor, “is this _better_?” He ignores Howard’s second sigh at his outburst, and continues even when he knows he shouldn’t, “You’re marrying me off Dad! Sending me away like some kind of- ” Tony cuts himself off, running his hands over his face to try and calm himself down, “I didn’t even get a _say_ in any of this, all because you need a precious heir for your company to continue on, like I can’t do that for you!”

“Of course you can, but for how long? I need-“

“You _need_?” Tony huffs out a bitter-sounding laugh, and moves away when Howard reaches for him, “You don’t even care about me at all, do you.”

“Of course I care,” Howard spits out, and the door behind him opens but he doesn’t even seem to notice, “You think that I, what, would have just sent you off like that without telling them to at least wait for a few months? I had to know, Anthony, if Thor was true to his word. That he wasn’t lying when he told me that he wasn’t some abusive thug, and that he’d treat you like a person and not a ‘mortal’ or whatever it is they say. I had to check it all out, to make sure that you’d be safe there.”

“Yeah, well thanks a _lot_ ,” Tony waves a hand in his face, glaring for all that it’s worth, “Big help it’ll all be when something happens to me anyway and you’ll be here, on Earth and at home, where you can’t _help me_!” Tony almost punches him after that, then and there, but a hand on Howard’s shoulder startles them both. Maria shakes her head at Tony’s clenched fist, but in response her son simply spins on his heels and walks toward the other corner of the room.

He sits on the bench-like chair there, uncaring if the clothes he’s wearing crease or wrinkle from his position, and he puts his face in his hands. The murmured conversation behind him starts off a little heated, but eventually simmers down, and the door doesn’t even slam when Howard storms out.

“I don’t need a pep talk,” Tony mutters into his hands, when he hears Maria come closer.

“Well, that’s good, because I’m not planning on giving you one,” She prods him in the side until he shuffles and she sits on the chair as well, sharing it with him and worrying the hairbrush’s handle between her hands, “I heard you both shouting.”

“Dad was shouting, I was talking,” Tony argues, lifting his head from his hands to glare at her when she snorts, “Did Jarvis hear?”

“No,” She glances once at the door, “Jarvis is in charge of packing for you. He’s convinced you’ll forget something if you do it yourself.”

Tony smiles to himself, and looks at the mirror in front of him, “I’m gonna miss him,” He murmurs, and then jerks when he feels Maria’s hands on his head, ”Don’t, I can do it myself, ” He then says when Maria tugs on his hair with the hairbrush.

“I know you can, but _I_ want to,” She ignores the rest of his protests and proceeds to carefully and tenderly brush his hair for him, tilting his head for her whenever she needs to, “After all, this may be the last time I ever get to do this for my son, and I’d rather I have at least one last go at it.”

And, maybe it’s because of the slight quiver she has in her voice when she says this, or maybe it’s the shaking of her hands when she turns his face, but whatever it is that she’d done, Tony sits up at her words and turns to her; looking into her eyes to see them shining with tears.

He chokes out, “ _Mom_ ,” And she hugs him, wrapping her arms around him tight and letting the hairbrush clatter to the floor for a second time today, “Mom, it’s okay.”

But it’s not. It’s really not. He’s leaving, and he’s never going to see her again, there’s no ‘maybe’ about it.

Howard he’ll possibly see again, because he’ll still be doing research and signing documents, but his own mother? No chance. And, God, is he going to miss her. Of course he's going to miss her. 

Maria sniffs, composing herself scarily quickly that he can’t help but smile at her perfectly brisk nature, though it takes a while for her to return it.

She bends then, to lift the hairbrush again but Tony kicks it away, “Leave it, it’s fine. I don’t need it,” She nods at him then, instead of answering, and lightly taps the top of his head before standing and heading over toward the bed. She reaches for the golden headband placed there, to be worn almost like a crown, and Tony stands when she approaches him again but she doesn’t put it on for him like he expects. 

She sets it on the table beside them, and sniffs again, wiping at her eyes, “Your father will be back in a few moments, Tony,” He grinds his teeth and sucks in a breath of air, ready to complain, but she speaks over him, “He’s calming himself down and discussing transport and the like with the other servants, while I’m here with you. But, there’s something he needs to do apparently.”

Tony sighs, looking down at the table instead of at his mother, because he knows she’ll start crying in a minute and if she does then he will too, “Will you be there?”

“Where?” She takes one of his hands into both of hers as she asks, “At the wedding? No, I’m - I’m not allowed.”

“No, I know that, I know,” Tony looks at her then, and yeah, she is crying and Tony struggles to compose _himself_ , just like she'd done so a few moments ago, “I mean, when I leave. Will you be there, to say goodbye?”

“Of course I will,” She whispers, curling a finger of hers around a strand of Tony’s hair until it pings up around his eyebrows, “I wouldn’t miss that.”

Tony smiles then, genuinely now and this time Maria returns it immediately, “I’ll try to make them let you visit, Mom,” He tells her, just as there’s a knock at the door, “I mean they’d have to, sometime, wouldn’t they, you’re my mother,” She smiles at him again, placing a hand on his stomach.

“Maybe when a grandchild is born, I can.” She says and, despite it physically hurting him to, Tony tries to nod. 

“Um, yeah. Maybe then.” He forces out, his chest tightening. 

The door opens then, for a third time, and Howard steps back into the room, looking at them both when they turn to him, “Ready?”

Maria nods, slipping her hand off of Tony’s stomach and walking toward the door. When it shuts, silence descends over the room and Tony's hands twitch against the folds of his clothes.

“Mom said you needed to do something,” Tony says, sitting back down on the chair and staring at his own reflection. Howard crosses the room to stand behind him, and he places both hands on Tony’s shoulder.

“Give me your wrist,” He says and with a blank face, Tony complies, lifting his arm to let Howard grab it by the elbow and twist it around until he can see the wrist, “This might hurt a bit.” Tony blinks, looking up at him and then twitches at the sharp prick just below his vein. Howard releases his arm and he rubs at the wrists, staring down at it, “That was a sensor. If you, at any point, are in distress it will pick up the change in mood. And, I will do my best to come as soon as I can, to Asgard and to see what it is that has happened to you.”

Tony swallows, meeting the eyes of father in the mirror, “What if you’re too late?” He says quietly, pressing two fingers to where the sensor must be.

Howard bends his head at the neck, and presses a kiss to the top of his head, “No one is going to kill you, Anthony,” He says, his mustache ruffling as he chuckles, “They need you.”

“Story of my life,” Tony mutters, which makes Howard smile even more, and it’s either now or never he guesses. He needs to ask, “If I have this baby, Dad. If I go through with this all, and let that guy fuck me, and use the Carrier gene and everything,” He stops himself before he babbles and looks away as he continues, “And then … it turns out to _not_ be a male ... Then what?”

Howard pulls away from him, lifting the golden band from the table, “Then you stay there,” He says, clasping the band around Tony’s head until the white pearls on it’s edges dangle over his forehead, “Until you do have one.”

\-----

Jarvis doesn't say anything to him, just hands him keys to the locks on all his bags and offers him a hug. Tony lets himself melt into it, lets Jarvis hold him like he's five again, like he's just crying from falling over and hurting his knees, and not from anything like this. When he pulls away, Jarvis's eyes are dry but that alone is telling and he can't bring himself to even say the word: 'goodbye', but Jarvis nods like he knows anyway and gestures he sit in the car.

The scenery is the same as it was the last time Tony'd made this journey, but he stares out the window all the same, the keys held tight in his hands until they cut into his palms. This isn't the first time he was going to Asgard, and it certainly isn't the first time he was going dressed in something red; ever since Odin had dubbed their family _honor_ and had told them it was symbolized in this color, Howard had had dozens of things made in the same shade of red for them to all wear during visits.

But still, Tony's heart pounds in his throat as the trees race by, because while he has been in Asgard before he has only ever met Heimdall and no one else, but this time he'll be in the entire court. And he'll meet the royal family for the first time, will meet the man who's going to be his - his _husband_ , and that alone makes him queasy.

Jarvis, sitting beside him, reaches down somewhere for a paper bag which he promptly hands to Tony to let him vomit into. Tony takes it but he knows that nothing will really come up, though he smiles his gratitude at Jarvis for it all the same. He receives a light pat on his knee in response and drops his head onto Jarvis' shoulder, craving his contact so badly he just wants to stop the car and just sit there while Jarvis rubs patterns into his arms.

This is not how he wants his life to go, leaving everything he's ever loved behind while he lives on an entirely different world than his, only returning once in a while at the request of his father if the company needs him. And, he supposes, once Howard dies, he'll have a lot more freedom with his life. That is, if Thor lets him. 

He scowls to himself. Fuck what Thor thinks, he knows nothing about the guy and honestly doesn't want to find out, and if Thor does restrict him Tony will just find another way around. It's what he does. Rules are there for Tony Stark to twist and manipulate until he can get past them and no one can catch him breaking them because they're fixed by the time they check.

Tony's eyes are close to sliding shut when the car rolls to a stop and two doors open on either side. He moans, rubbing his eye and sits up, flicking one of the pearls out of his face with a sigh, "Do I have to wear this?" He asks Jarvis, pointing to the band.

"I'd assume so, Tony, if they thought it prudent to send it down," Is the answer and Tony sighs, flicking one of the pearls until Jarvis lays a hand on his fingers to stop him, "Come on, your parents are waiting."

Tony carefully steps out of the car, hating that the robes cling to him in this heat, but he's used to this type of clothing; tunic-like, though longer than the others he has. Nick Fury meets them at the cordoned off area, in his black suit and tie like always and he actually spares Tony a greeting today and doesn't ignore him like he's usually known to.

Howard and Fury chat away, discussing whatever crap they need to and Tony sits on the hood of one of the cars, staring up at the sky he's about to be shot into in about half an hour. It all seems so surreal to him that he doesn't even bother arguing even more, because it's happening. Six months of a build-up and of fights and threats and press scandals, and he's still here and still stuck on the end of his father's leash. 

If only he could manage to unclasp the wedge of disappointment around his collar, he could maybe get on with his own life and stop letting his father guilt trip him constantly over every decision he ever makes. But, it's too late for anything now. This is happening.

"Gum?" Tony looks up when the hood of the car shakes as someone else sits down on it and takes the sweet offered, "You look like you need something to clench your teeth around." 

Tony grimaces and rolls his shoulders back, turning to face the blond man that's decided to sit with him, "Clint Barton," He introduces himself as, and Tony takes his hand and opens his mouth to introduce himself as well when, "And you're Tony Stark, the genius prodigy. And, I heard, about to get married to an alien."

"They're not aliens," Tony says around the gum in his mouth, watching Howard out of the corner of his eye. Maria still sits in the car she'd come in, watching her husband just as her son does, "They're supposed Gods, though I don't believe that either."

"Well whatever they are, congratulations," It sounds dry even to him, and Tony guesses that this Clint guy probably knows that this marriage isn't exactly something that Tony wants, "Hope your father knows what he's doing."

"So do I," Tony sighs, reaching into the small bag he's brought for his sunglasses and he slips them on, "What do you know about Asgard?"

"Not much, and definitely not things you'd like to know," Clint answers, and then asks a question of his own, "How old are you anyway?"

"How old do I look?" Tony counters with a smirk, and he's rewarded with a laugh

"I wouldn't," Clint grins, blowing out a bubble in his gum and popping it with his finger.

"I'm twenty-one," Tony then answers, blowing a bubble of his own, "Twenty-two in a few days."

"Happy Birthday for then, seeing as I'm not likely to see you again," Clint kicks himself off of the hood and pats Tony on the arm as he leaves, "Nice clothes," Is the last thing he says before taking out his gum and sticking it on the S of the _Stark_ symbol on the car's roof.

And Tony's just about to call after him when Howard shouts out his name, and when he looks up about six other people are staring at him. He guesses it's time.

.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So sorry it's late!!!! *Slaps self in annoyance.*

.

Maria refuses to let him go. She wraps her hands around both his arms in so tight a hold that he almost winces but he can't bring himself to push her away. He'll never see her again, after all.

Jarvis is there afterward with: one of his usual brisk and brief hugs, his warm smile and his spotted little pocket handkerchief; ready to wipe away Tony's tears before he even notices them falling himself, and his deep voice murmuring his goodbyes.

"I'm going to miss you Jarv," Tony says, sniffing only the once before planting his professional and for-the-press smile on because yeah, they’ve got an audience and he _hates_ this, "Like, _really_ miss you."

"You'll be fine, Tony." Jarvis assures him, always knowing exactly what it was Tony wants to say to him; even when it doesn't even make any other sense another way around, "Your father has an agreement with the All-father, and they promised him you'll be safe."

Tony scoffs, "We all know how promises can be broken Jarv, especially when my dad was the one who enforced them," He glances to the side at the man in question to see him standing by the post Fury had directed him to. He's impatiently bobbing back and forth on the balls of his feet, his hands clasped behind his back, which probably means that they're late. Great first impression, "And anyway," Tony continues, looking back at Jarvis now, "I don't want to be safe on another planet, I want to be safe _here_."

"Mr Stark," Fury calls over from the truck, "Stark jr," He amends when Howard looks his way as well, "If you'll kindly take your position, we can beam you up and get this over with."

Over with for _him_.

"This isn't Star Trek." Tony calls back and he grins when Jarvis chuckles. The humor vanishes almost immediately though in light of the situation and Tony hugs Jarvis again, tighter this time "Bye Jarvis."

"Goodbye, Tony."

He turns from him then, back to his Mom, who's as composed and rigid as she always is, "Bye Mom."

She stares at him for a long moment, and then whispers in his ear that she loves him when he hugs her again as well, "I'll send things with your father when he visits with Fury. Things you'll like, things that you might have missed."

He smiles at her, "You'll spoil me."

"You're going to be a Prince," She reminds him and doesn't that just drum a new set of fear into him, "Well. You'll be married to one, so you’ll be spoiled anyway.”

“Yeah, because I’m going to be someone’s baby- _mama_ ,” Tony scoffs bitterly, and he barely hears Maria’s words of: ‘Don’t call yourself that’, before hearing Fury call for him again.

“I’m coming!” He snaps over his shoulder, “Have a little patience, you’re coming _back_ here unlike me, so cool it!”

“Tony,” Maria lays a hand on his shoulder, “You have to go,” He looks at her, biting down hard on his lip, “You can’t be late for this, you know that.” She lets out a short laugh that sounds half like a sob and exclaims in sheer disbelief; like she’s only just realised it herself, “You’re getting _married_.”

Tony nods, because what else can he do or say? He knows he’s getting married, he’d be one of the dumbest people on Earth if he didn’t.

_How could he possibly forget._

“ _Anthony_.” Howard calls from behind him but Tony ignores him and gives his mother one last hug. The longest one of them all.

He avoids contact with Howard when he finally does slowly step onto the spot that he’s meant to plant his feet over, and he clenches his hands into fists as he waits.

He takes a deep breath, flicking the pearls over his forehead out the way again and blinking sharply at the sudden warmth flowing over him.

Beam up time.

Jarvis gives him a quick wave from where he’s standing by the car and Tony suddenly wishes that he were coming with him too. To the wedding at least.

He doesn’t voice that though, because he already knows that then there’d just be more arguments and more tears and more time wasted and he _really_ can’t handle anymore goodbyes.

So he just smiles back at him when the waving doesn’t stop and manages a little wave of his own before there’s a flash of multiple colours swirling around him and the air leaves his lungs just as his body is tugged forward; up and into the air.

He squeezes his eyes shut at the wind spiking into them and barely feels Howard brush against him before they land.

The disorientation lasts for a moment but the dizziness and near-blindness stays for a bit longer and the next thing Tony knows is that he’s staggering forward with a hand to his head and is walking straight into the firm chest of a man almost three-feet taller than him.

Oh yeah, they’re all really tall. He’d forgotten. _Not_. He’s going to stick out like a sore mortal thumb.

“Welcome to Asgard, Anthony; Son of Howard Stark,” is his warm greeting, “Now please. Walk this way with me.”

.

* * *

 

.

Asgard is beautiful.

The sky alone almost seems to glitter and even the room they’d appeared in was utterly gorgeous to look at. The technology used to make it work must have been pretty impressive and he would _kill_ for a chance of operating it. Though, he sincerely doubts that that chance would ever really come with his circumstances.

However, despite how beautiful everything was to look at, whenever Tony tries to do that and to stop and look around or to try and touch the floating rocks that bounce by the bridge they walk on, he’s urged along by their guide. Who, apparently, goes by the name of ‘Fandral’ and had even pushed them along when another Asgardian - Heimdall was his name, according to Howard - greeted them as well.

They were both nauseatingly polite to him too, and god, Tony hates politics. He hopes they all won’t be like this all the time; just because he’s about to marry their Crown Prince doesn’t mean he’s going to like being surrounded by royal politics all the time. He hates Earth’s politics enough as it is, and if he’s forced to go along with the strange customs here, then he’ll -

“Pay attention and walk straight,” Howard says from behind him, startling him out of his thoughts. He almost scowls over his shoulder at him in answer before noticing the many people standing around and watching them walk by. He swallows down the remark that had sprung to his lips and walks with his back now a little straighter.

More people begin to huddle around, most still going about their business but visibly stopping to stare.

It’s a little like suddenly becoming a roadside attraction or something but Tony brushes off the self-conscious prickle up his spine at all the unwanted attention and ignores Howard’s order to pay _them_ attention in return. He doesn’t need to look, walk or talk regal. He’s not, technically, a prince anyway.

He decides to glance around the buildings instead and he can’t help but smile at what he sees. Almost everything here really is breathtakingly beautiful and it’s a shame that this is all going to be his prison now. In a twisted kind of way.

He supposes there’ll be freedoms but freedoms to go back home will be a little hard to come by seeing as it took years for visitors to even be allowed to come here on a regular basis.

Plus the fact, that according to his father the King - or, _All-father_ \- Odin, is a bit of a tight-ass when it comes to security. Something about the famous war, and though Tony would no doubt be hearing the entire story soon, he already feels sick of the subject.

He remembers, a few years ago, asking Howard about why the Jotun had risen up against Asgard in the first place, and back then his only answer had been a terse: “Greed drives everything evil forward, Anthony.”

He hadn’t exactly been satisfied with that, but sadly, there were no books on Jotun or Asgardian politics back home.

Maybe they had a library _here_ that did …

“Careful, these steps are higher than they look,” Fandral notifies them, speaking again after so long in silence before abruptly taking a hold of Tony by the waist and effortlessly lifting him over three of said steps until he’s standing beside him. Tony does not yelp at the sudden contact, but it’s a near thing, and he’s glad that he’s kept his face so neutral because there are people still staring at them all. And he’ll be damned if he humiliates himself so early on, “There. The main hall is just through here now, Anthony Stark, and the All-father with greet you inside.”

Tony nods but doesn’t speak, a little flustered at everything despite himself, and he smoothes his robe down over his front instead. Murmurs begin to rise around them as they stand there and he feels the back of his neck grow hot as a result. He inwardly scowls at himself - he hasn’t blushed since he was _eleven_ for God’s sake - but he supposes that the freaking situation is a little unique.

They continue on from the steps, leaving Howard to clamber up them himself. He does it with a little dignity at least, keeping his face straight though his irritation is completely clear; at least to Tony but before he can hiss out a comment about it to his son, the two huge double doors before them open without anyone even there to push them.

Fandral gives Tony an encouraging smile, ignoring Howard again, and he gestures that he go inside. Tony does, hearing his own footsteps echo on the marble floor - he thinks it’s marble at least - and he looks about a little nervously. Murmurs from outside increase in volume and he clenches his fists at the word ‘Mortal’ - feeling a little like an animal when people call him that - but before he can let his anger get away from him the doors shut and Howard puts a hand on his shoulder from behind.

“Follow my lead and don’t speak unless I say so.” He says into his ear.

Tony shoves his hand off, and glares at him, hissing out a vicious “ _No_ ,” even though he know he’ll listen anyway. He doesn’t know this place and he doesn’t know what would count as an insult.

He came here to be married, not executed, though right now he can’t even tell which is worse.

.

 

* * *

 

.

Odin is busy. Apparently.

And Howard is spitting fire as he paces the room. Every mutter of his grows quieter and quieter which just goes to show how much power these people have over Earth if even his _dad_ would rather keep his thoughts silent here.

Even when he was so angry.

“Maybe we should have called.” Tony sighs, laying back on the bed that sits in the middle of the incredibly spacious room that they’d been led to. Fandral had disappeared and instead a pale-faced maid had taken them away here and had left them at the door.

They’d been promised that the Queen would come for them soon, but it’s been fifteen minutes and Howard is near to exploding.

“This is probably because we’re late,” He says behind gritted teeth, “So now they’ve making us wait in return.”

“Fine by me.” Tony mutters before sucking in a gasp when Howard yanks him upright.

“Sit up straight, she might come in here any second and you’ll ruin the clothes anyway,” Tony rolls his eyes but sits up anyway, “And stop acting so casual, before I lose it with you. You know how important this is, so try and act like you actually care.”

“But I don’t care.” Tony reminds him with a sneer, yawning behind one hand, and he winces only a little when Howard’s hand tightens around his arm; still not having let him go, “It’s important to _you_ Dad. I don’t give a shit myself.”

“For God's sake Tony, of all days to be behaving like a - "

There’s a knock at the door and they both whip their heads around toward it.

Howard releases Tony, straightening his back and he barks out a single command: “Enter.” because there’s no way that that’s anyone royal so who cares about respect. Tony scoffs under his breath at his own father, rubbing his arm where Howard's nails had dug into.

Luckily for them, it isn't anyone royal, and the servant who enters even bows her head in Tony’s direction as though waiting for permission to speak.

Okay. Maybe he could get used to _this_ kind of attention.

"The All-father will see you now, Anthony Stark." She murmurs, leaving before they've even replied and Howard takes a hold of Tony's arm again, dragging him to his feet and pulling at the robe until it's smooth again.

"Remember,” He growls at him, “Only speak when I say so, and under no circumstances do you mention your feelings on the matter.”

“Wha - ”

“Don’t you dare Tony," Howard snaps, "You will not ruin this now.” Tony glares at him, “Do you understand?”

“I fucking understood it when you first told me about it,” Tony spits, “Doesn’t mean I have to like it.”

“Well, you’ll have to learn to, then.” Is Howard’s short answer, and then he’s pushing them back down yet another golden corridor again.

Tony doesn’t bother looking at the scenery this time, he'll see it all again anyway, and instead walks with his head down and with his hands unclenched but twitching to be the opposite.

He still feels a little fear at being in the presence of someone like Odin but he's finally going to meet Thor now, which he guesses is a good thing. It's always good to you meet the person you're going to marry right, just probably not really for the best when it's only a day before the actual wedding.

He hates his life.

 

* * *

 

 

Thor kisses his hand.

Tony keeps his face as straight as he can manage when he does, even when all he wants to do is grimace and yank it back and away from Thor’s itchy beard.

They’re not in the Hall but in a private chamber now instead and he doubts that it’s anyone’s bedroom or anything, mainly because there’s no bed, but also because it’s bigger than any bedroom he’s ever seen. A study chamber maybe, judging from the books stacked on the table.

He hears Odin’s greeting for Howard and bristles when he’s completely ignored other than a polite nod. He's the one getting his life spun out of control, they could at least show a little common courtesy.

 

Thor leads him to toward a spot beside him while the "adults" talk, and Tony very nearly trips over the robe’s hem when he’s suddenly directed to sit.

He stiffens at the hand on the small of his back - he's not a victorian maiden for Christ's sake - but Howard’s warning of keeping quiet bounces around in his head when he turns to tell Thor to take it off so he clicks his jaw shut, and scowls at his lap instead.

And still, other than the little Thor has given, no one even pays him much attention.

“Research is essential in things like this, Sire,” He hears Howard say and he almost smirks at the respect that needs to drip from his father in order to remain alive. It must _kill_ to have to talk like that here, especially when he’s used to everyone else doing it to him instead, “I didn’t ask those questions last time for no good reason and I refuse to - ” Okay. That sounds like the beginning of an argument. Tony frowns, trying to listen in.

Odin’s reply is quieter than Howard’s but it successfully interrupts him but Tony can't hear or figure out why.

He sighs to himself, watching as Howard’s sits a little straighter and visibly grinds his teeth when Odin ends whatever he was saying with a curt nod.

But before anyone else can talk, Thor suddenly leans forward; his hand still on Tony’s back which pushes him a little up too, and says: “Would it not be better to ask Anthony?” Tony jerks his head up to stare at him.

Ask him what?

“He is, after all, the one who will live with this decision.” Well, finally, a little consideration at last.

“Ask me what?” Tony asks, ignoring the glare Howard sends his way.

Thor smiles down at him, surprisingly not unkindly, despite what Howard had said about him being a bit of a fight-starter and desperate for War, “You were not listening?”

“You probably have better hearing than me, big guy,” Tony shrugs, carefully moving Thor’s hand until he gets the picture and drops it anyway, “I was trying to listen but I couldn’t hear a thing.”

“Anthony Stark,” Odin then says, and yeah, that’s a little trickle of fear running down Tony’s spine. This is a King, a very powerful King, and they may be in the middle of an agreement between worlds here but this isn’t Tony’s home one, and he could easily say something very wrong. He’s beginning to realise now why his father had effectively told him to shut up before, “Asgard has very recently left the peak of a War.”

Oh here we go. He knew it.

“There are treaties we have created," Odin continues, "Allies and enemies that are now in their place after this, and I have gained the loyalty of many of the realms under my rule." Tony frowns. This wasn't what he'd expected, and why was Howard suddenly looking a little off? "And the last realm in need to do this is yours.” Howard clasps his hands together at that and Tony stares at him now, understanding flooding through him, "Through you."

This wasn’t what he’d told him. Howard had told him that he was here for Earth, yeah, but he’d also said that this was about Tony as well.

He’d said it was about thinking what was good for Tony. About Tony having the best and not allowing himself to let the carrier gene fertilise with just anyone but with a fucking alien Prince instead. Tony had hated the idea, of course he'd hated the idea, who wouldn't, but it's still a little flattering to think of it like that. That his Dad is doing all this for him.

This, the truth of it all, is not.

This isn't for him at all. He’s a pawn in this only. A broker deal between two worlds.

The richest man alive on Earth gives up his only son which means that neither worlds can go to War against each other because they’re linked in this deal, not to mention the fact that their most able weapons manufacturer would be the in-law to Asgard’s royal family.

And if Asgard went to War, Earth would then have to be _obliged_ to help.

Tony feels a bubble of hysterical laughter rising inside him.

He’s. A. Fucking. _Pawn_.

“You look surprised.” Odin says, raising an eyebrow but no one else says anything because the door then opens and Frigga - the Queen - enters. Tony focuses on her instead, biting on the inside of his lip and swallowing down the wallow of pity that is currently trying to consume him.

She’s as beautiful as Howard had described to him the first time, graceful and elegant, gentle-looking, and holy shit - Tony swallows again - she’s going to be his _Mother-in-law_. He's going to have two Mothers, but already he knows that this is the one that he'll see more of. Mother-in-law. Queen-in-law. Whatever.

She greets Howard as politely as Odin had greeted Tony, and he kisses her hand in return. Thor makes to stand when she turns to them but she gestures he sit back down with such a stern look that Tony almost wants to laugh.

Then, even ignoring her husband, though not disrespectfully apparently because no one reacts to it, she approaches him as well.

“Anthony Stark?” She says, with an inquiring look. He nods.

“Tony,” He corrects, and then panics. What does he do, kiss her hand as well? But she lifts his chin with two fingers and meets his eyes before he can do anything else.

“Welcome to Asgard, _Tony_. I am the All-mother, Frigga,” She says warmly, smiling down at him, but Tony doesn't even get to answer before she turns to Howard again, “He is very young.” She says, sounding a little disapproving.

“He’s of age.” Howard replies blandly.

“I’m 21.” Tony informs her when she looks back at him with a frown, “But ... I guess, compared to you all, I am just a baby, huh.”

Thor laughs at that, startling Tony at how loud he actually is, and the air is knocked out of him when he’s patted on the back.

“Thor,” Frigga admonishes, knocking her son on the head, and helping Tony up. He can't help but smile when Thor's laughter bubbles down and he looks a little ashamed of himself. But the smile returns when he sees Tony's one, “Summon your brother, Thor. Tell him that he’s needed here _now_ and not in two days time.” Someone's always late for things, Tony muses.

Thor hesitates then, looking at Tony for some reason, and he suddenly gets a very bad feeling.

"Mother - "

“Something’s changed.” Tony says and they all look at him but he's only looking at Howard now, and he feels a spike of fearful anger at the uncomfortable look that melds onto his father’s face at the scrutiny, “Hasn’t it.”

“No, the wedding of our worlds will still be continuing on as planned, Anthony. There is no need to fret.” Odin says calmly, and that only makes Tony's fingers twitch in irritation at the patronizing tone. He’s not fretting, he was _asking_ a question, “I have simply come to a different decision now, that is all.”

Frigga takes a seat beside Tony when Thor finally does get up, seemingly as uncomfortable as Howard is right now. She smiles at him again and he inwardly sighs. At least she’s kind he supposes, and from how she scolded Thor just now, she can control her children too. That could be useful. For him.

“What different decision?” Tony asks, though he already has his suspicions. His heart begins to hammer in his chest and he can’t stop glaring a hole into his father’s head.

“Thor is due to be the Crown Prince of Asgard, Anthony, a decision I only recently made. He has not yet been announced as he is not of age but once he has become so he cannot be wed to you” Odin informs him, and Tony swallows again but there doesn't seem to be anything he can swallow down. His throat is too dry, “When we came to this agreement, I chose my eldest because it seemed prudent to. I was still holding both my sons as equal chance for my throne.”

“But now you’ve chosen your youngest instead because Thor won.” Tony finishes numbly, and now he does clench his fists in anger because who cares if he’s being disrespectful _now_? If he marries the other one - Loki - then he’s dead anyway, “Because, what? The Crown Prince can only marry an Asgardian or, or something?”

Odin smiles, “Not quite.” Howard scratches the back of his neck when Tony’s glare intensifies and Odin actually chuckles at him when he notices, “Your father was unaware of this change Anthony, he was even trying to amend it just now, for you.”

“My name’s Tony, not Anthony.” Tony snaps, instantly regretting it when Howard’s head whips around toward him, but Odin just chuckles again and ignores his preference of names completely, “And with all due respect, sire, changing your mind the day before is a little sudden for me. And rude.”

“I could not risk you not coming here at all, for this treaty is essential to all of us.” Odin says, “I swore to my realm that I will gain the loyalty of all those accompanying us, and that no War will arise again if I do, and in return they are to all have my loyalty also. This new decision will bear no significant change to any of this.”

“So you tricked us into coming here, only to make a sudden change you don't think will effect me, even when it does.” Tony summarises and Howard looks like he’s about to faint.

“In a way, yes,” Odin answers, not even looking the slightest bit apologetic about it.

"Tony - " Howard starts but he actually goes quiet at the deadly look his son shoots him.

"And what if I say no?" Tony then asks Odin, taking a little pleasure at the sheer panic in Howard's eyes now, "What if I refuse to marry Loki?"

Odin doesn't answer him but then again, the answer's really rather obvious anyway and Tony bows his head when he can't think of anything else to say; angrily flicking a pearl out his face. Anger bubbles up inside him and he wants to rip the robe off, wants to ruin this all before it even starts, wants to scream and shout and hurl abuse at the only other men in the room; both of whom seem to think he's some kind of prized ornament that they need to decide which household to sell him to.

He keeps his mouth shut and grits his teeth instead because what else can he do? This is happening and he'd already accepted that back on Earth, the only difference here is that he's marrying a -

There's a knock at the door and Thor opens it, looking both irritated, uncomfortable and scared. He ignores everyone but his mother and says slowly, "I ... cannot find him anywhere."

Frigga sighs, scowling at Thor, "You told him." She accuses.

"I - " He stops at the look on her face, "Not directly, I didn't. He guessed when I attempted to lie about it."

So Loki doesn't want this either, Tony blinks down at his lap. Good.

Maybe he can use that to his advantage, maybe he can still get out of this, maybe they can all find another way to bind the treaty instead. Marriage was so old-fashioned, after all. There were other things they could use weren't there?

"Take Anthony and his father to their room, Thor." Odin says, standing. Howard stands at the same time as him, nodding his head once and approaching his son without a single question about what's happening. Because, apparently, a missing Prince seems to be a common occurrence around here, judging from how they're all acting. Even Howard.

Howard helps Tony up from the seat so that the robe doesn't catch on anything and then lets Tony shrug his grip off once he's standing.

Thor moves to let them past and then walks besides Howard down the corridor. Tony remains silent all the while, his chest tightening painfully and knowing that if he tries to speak now he'll probably end up in a cell. But everything about him thrums anger anyway, and when another pearl dangles over his eyes, he yanks at it viciously until it tears off and then he throws it to one side.

The clatter of it echoes around the otherwise empty corridor, and he hears Thor hum behind him concernedly, but no one comments on it and Tony ends up being the first into the room and the first out of the Stark's to start shouting about everything.

.

*****************

.

"It's not as bad as you're making it out to be Tony, it's still a marriage it's just - "

"Exactly!" Tony snaps, rounding on him, "It's a _marriage_. I'm getting married at twenty-two to someone I've never even met but _oh_ , have I heard some lovely stories about him!" Howard sighs, "Most of them from _you_ , in fact!"

"I know this isn't what was agreed, but that doesn't change the importance of all this and - "

"The importance to _you_ , you mean." Tony spits, "You don't care about the fucking treaties Dad, you just want an heir. You think you hate my biology? _I'm_ the one that has to live with it! And not only did I have to endure all those comments about it all my life, but now my own father is using it to get what he wants!"

"I'm not using you, Tony, don't be so - "

"I didn't want _any_ of this Dad! It was bad enough before and now they've suddenly ' _changed_ ' their minds about all this so now I'm - I'm marrying the universe's biggest nutcase!" Howard shushes him with a hiss, pushing him away from the door and glaring at him angrily but Tony doesn't stop, "I've heard it from you and I've heard it from Fury. Loki's nuts, and I am _not_ marrying him!"

Howard grips him by the arms and forces him to sit on the edge of the bed, "I really don't care what you think about me, Tony, but this is too important for you to mess up. Odin and I have a deal and I swear that nothing will happen to you alright. And if you don't calm down right now then tomorrow is just going to be hell on all of us."

"It already _is_ \- "

"No Tony, enough," Howard tightens his grip until Tony looks down and away from him, shutting up at the same time, "This is happening, whether you like it or not, and it'll be easier if you accept that. I don't know much about Loki, besides his so-called trickster nature, but he isn't 'nuts'. Just - a little strange."

Tony scoffs, humiliatingly feeling tears begin to prick behind his eyes.

"You'll get along fine if that's the case," Howard then jokes but neither of them laugh or even acknowledge it, "You'll be fine Tony, I promise." He then adds, seriously.

"I don't want to get married."

"No one ever does."

Tony gives him a disgusted look, before blinking the tears away and protesting once again: "He doesn't even want this himself, though."

Howard shrugs, dusting Tony's robe off with both hands, "That's not my problem, you are, and if he doesn't then you just have another extra thing in common. He'll have to go through with it anyway, just like you will, so please just accept it and go along with it. Be a man. No more crying or screaming."

"I'm not _crying_ , I'm angry." Tony sneers, trying to move out of Howard's grip before suddenly being engulfed by his father's arms. He blinks in shock, never actually having been hugged by Howard in all his life, and he shuts his eyes in confusion and instinct when a kiss is pressed to his forehead.

"Get dressed and get to bed. You've an early start tomorrow." Tony sits still when Howard releases him, and he wonders if the point of that random show of affection was to just mute him with shock. Because it worked. Howard runs a hand over the band on Tony's head, then stands up and heads for the door.

Tony bites his lip, rubbing his teeth over the most recent cut he'd received from boxing, before noticing the bags in the corner. He shoves all his anger away and stands up as well, "How'd our stuff get here?" He asks, heading over to his suitcase. Fandral had told them to leave it behind when they'd first got here, he remembers.

Howard pauses at the door to the adjourning room, and looks back at him at the question, "Loki brought them, according to Odin. It's apparently why he wasn't with us at first."

Tony freezes and waits until he hears the door click shut after Howard before unzipping the case. Everything's still inside, nothing's been taken, but it's not in the order it had previously been put into by Jarvis. Which means ... someone went through his stuff. Someone's nosed through it all.

He sighs to himself, trying to calm down. At this rate, the roller-coaster of today's emotions will keep him awake all night.

He digs around through his clothes, ignoring the slight unease he feels at the notion that his groom-to-be must have gone through his stuff without his permission. Luckily Tony's not the sort to keep a diary or anything but that doesn't exactly make him any less angry about it.

He eventually finds something that he can wear for the night and looks up at the dauntingly huge bed behind him.

He huffs out a short laugh. His first night in his new home will be all alone.

God.

He stands slowly, wincing when his muscles protest and he regrets crouching for so long. He looks away from the bed to scan for a mirror and his gaze hones onto the small table in the corner and what he sees causes him to grow rigid all over.

"Um."

Placed over the table's surface, still glittering with the after-effects of magic, lies a single rose. He stares at it, completely taken aback by it's appearance and really unsure of what to think, but when he sets the clothes down on the bed to lean over and lightly touch the petals; it disappears. In a tiny cloud of golden glitter.

He blinks, taking a cautious step back in surprise as the glitter flies through the air like dust, morphing into tiny golden letters.

" _Welcome to Asgard, Tony Stark, of Midgard_."

The letters disappear a second after he's read them and afterward, there's then not a single trace of the rose having actually been there in the first place. Tony stands stock still for a few moments, frowning in confusion. He knows who it must have been from, Howard's already explained about all the magic and the tricks and illusions. But knowing that, doesn't serve to help with his confusion.

And it's only until he's wrapped up in covers too large for him does he realize that Loki had called him ' _Tony_ '.

.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I wonder if this has repelled anyone's expectations ... hm.
> 
> Hope you enjoyed!! XD


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I am so so _so_ sorry for this long wait for an update!!

.

The next morning is nothing at all like Tony expects it to be. 

He'd expected urgency; hurried and panicked servants rushed off their feet, continuously being pushed in several different directions until he finally cracked, trying different clothes on, trying cake, decorations, food, gifts ...

Instead. He gets a single servant coming to wake him up, to set his bed for him, to lay out the clothes that his father had brought for him to wear, and to just leave him alone afterward. 

After that, no one else really comes along to see him and he's mostly just left here until around midday. 

With a sigh, he decides to dress before being asked/ordered to, just in case he's needed to be ready for some kind of weird routine meeting thing or something - he doesn't exactly know how even weddings back home work, let alone ones on another world - and he feels a lot more comfortable in clothes that he's used to wearing, rather than that ridiculous robe from yesterday.

He still doesn't understand the point of wearing it, though he supposes that the people of Asgard were only seeing him for the first time then and there. He would have had to have looked at least a little more like them than Midgardian, because - uh - to avoid too many stares? Maybe?

Not that it had helped anyway, he remembers being stared at plenty. 

The clothes his father had had made for him are as red as the robe is. It's a suit, pressed and immaculate, and it feels just like he's back at home when he wears it, which is stupid because that thinking those kind of thoughts is only going to upset him all over again.

The shirt is a low shade of gold, mild enough to not make him look like an eye-sore and, again, to match Asgard's colors. Also, when he buttons everything together just like Howard had shown him to back on Earth, he notices that it's all been fitted to him perfectly. 

His figure's presented well enough that even when he turns or bends, not a single crease ruins it. 

There's an Asgardian sigil written in gold on the collar, repeated on the cuffs of the sleeves too, but other than that it's just like something that Tony would wear to one of his father's meetings back at Stark Industries. 

Well. The color's a little too bright but other than that, it's fine. 

Comfortable, even. 

He takes in a deep breath, closing his eyes. He can do this. 

There's a knock at the door and his eyes fly open, immediately glad that he's already dressed, but he barely manages to even begin to say: "Enter" before it opens anyway and Howard walks in. Followed by Queen Frigga. Or is that All-Mother Frigga?

Tony turns to face them both, coolly and blatantly ignoring his own father, and giving Frigga one of his best smiles, "Good morning," He greets as politely as he can muster.

Frigga nods in return, smiling as warmly as she had yesterday, but Howard's gruff reply of: "It's been afternoon for a while now, Tony," sort of drags the tension back into the room.

"My mistake," Tony says icily, "I guess I'd know that, if I was actually allowed out of this room. You know, to _actually_ be a part of the preparations for my own _wedding_ day." 

Howard sends a matching glare back to him but doesn't otherwise comment. And if he'd wanted to anyway, he wouldn't have due to Frigga's presence in the room as well, and also, couldn't have because there's a knock at the door, just after Tony stops speaking. 

Frigga doesn't answer Tony's mini little outburst either, instead choosing to look apologetically in his direction, and instead turns to the door; answering it for him, "Yes?"

"Our uncle's here, Mother." Comes a low voice from behind it, the door creaking when whoever it is places their hand over the wood. 

And, suddenly, Tony can't breathe. 

That voice, that voice out there, sounds nothing like Thor and as far as he knows Odin doesn't have any other children but whoever it is just called Frigga ' _mother_ '. Which means -

"Tell him he that he's far too early, Loki. And address that from me, as well." Frigga calls out to him while Tony just stares straight ahead at the door. 

Loki. 

Right there. Right outside that door. 

His - fiancé. 

"He's not going to - "

The handle to the door begins to click downward, as though Loki wants to enter to the room, and Tony - understandably - panics. 

Just - panics, and he takes a faltering step toward Frigga, "He can't come in here," He says before visibly grimacing at how that must have sounded. Frigga raises an eyebrow at him, so he quickly adds, "It's - bad luck."

The handle stills and the door remains shut but Tony strongly suspects that Loki's still standing out there; listening to him. Probably thinking exactly the same things as Tony had when he'd heard his voice just now.

Frigga frowns now, tilting her head to one side in a tiny, almost subtle, show of confusion, "Bad luck?"

Howard elaborates for Tony as he's now gone back to looking back at the door again, as though it holds the secrets to the universe or something, "It's a common Midgardian superstition," He explains," That I, um, had no idea that my son followed," Tony's given a look then, which clearly states that they're going to 'talk' later, if there's time, which he sincerely hopes there's not, "It's supposedly bad luck on a couple about to be married, if they see each other before the wedding."

"Ah. I see." Frigga smiles again at him, still so motherly and understanding about this all, that Tony wants to hate her for it but can't bring himself to. She then turns toward the door, likely about to tell Loki to go and leave them alone, when it bursts opens anyway and both brothers barge in, in a flurry.

Thor's grinning; he has an arm around his brother's neck and shoulders as he drags him in, babbling about some kind of tournament or something, and he opens his mouth to either laugh or exclaim something when he catches the look on both Tony and his own mother's faces. His grin slowly fades then, almost comically. 

"Have I interrupted something?"

Loki shrugs Thor's grip off of him with a scowl, looking at Frigga as he shrugs, "I hadn't the chance to tell him, mother." Not sounding the least bit sorry about it, though. Hmph. "Not before he grabbed me and forced me through."

Tony'd stiffened when they'd first entered and, though he's over the surprise of it, he's still slightly tense in the shoulders while looking - staring - over at Loki. 

He doesn't know why, he was completely fine with Thor - barring the hand kissing - but maybe that's because he'd been _expecting_ to see him. He'd asked questions about him, had tried to think of every scenario and every notion; he'd wanted to be prepared really, for all of this.

But now. With Loki. 

He has no idea what to expect now. 

He knows things from Fury, for obvious reasons, and he knows various stories from Howard, but fragments of a personality aren't enough to drum up a picture of who is going to be Tony's husband. Husband - Jesus Christ, this isn't _fair_. Husband, starting from today, For the rest of his life.

Forever. Even if he doesn't want it anymore, he knows the risks, has been told all of them. He just - hasn't been given the choice to opt out.

He knows that Loki's irrational, knows that he's supposedly a bit nuts, but the rose on his table yesterday had been one of the most warming welcoming greetings given to him yet. 

Could be a trick though. Could be Loki just trying to lure him in, make a show, make him believe, and then suddenly leave him or humiliate him. It's happened to him before: High-school, College, Work; so it's entirely plausible for it to happen again. He seems to drag this kind of this around him wherever he goes.

Maybe he's just got one of those faces.

Looking back at Loki, he realises that he must look strange just staring, probably too avidly as well, whilst he thinks, but Loki doesn't even seem to want to look at him back.

Of course. He doesn't want this either. Or maybe - the rose? - he does. 

Tony doesn't know anymore. He can't think about this right now, he doesn't even want to -

"It's fine." He finds himself saying, and there. Loki turns and, finally, meets his eyes. 

Tony tries to smile but he already knows that it's just going to come out as nothing more than an uncomfortable grimace, "I don't - I don't mind." 

He does mind. He really does. He'd wanted to ready himself for tonight, to ask his father about every single thing he knew about Loki before actually seeing the guy. Had, however internally, actually wanted to make an impression. But now, it's done and they've seen each other. Yet another thing that's not gone along with the shitty little plan his father's done up for him.

The thing is though, he hadn't cared before and that's what bugs him. 

He was going to marry Thor, he'd been told that, had planned for that, had prepared, for it _months_ before. He'd asked questions about the family, about the world, about how he'll live there but most of the questions had been of Thor because he'd be his husband after this. And that was huge. For Tony. 

Because: one, there was the consummation thing - something that he was completely inexperienced in, due to Howard's protectiveness over his stupid _stupid_ carrier gene - and there was living together, being together, the heir thing, the pregnancy, the - 

God, he suddenly feels a little faint. He shakes his head, resisting the urge to press a hand to his forehead. 

But. Asking all those question, wanting to know more, he'd only gotten a vague idea of the rest of the family, with nothing too detailed, because he wouldn't be married to _them_ , and he hadn't wanted to know then.

"I - " He swallows, wishing on every single star in this new and weird constellation out there, that they weren't all looking at him right now. He thinks that maybe his sudden dizziness is showing, or something, because there's a bit of concern on Frigga's face.

"Loki, out. Now." She says - orders - him sternly, but her son ignores her. Tony swallows again, more in fear now, when Loki suddenly takes a step toward Tony; pausing only when Tony takes a step back. He stands there then, with one of the blankest faces that Tony's ever seen too. He should ask for tips, the press were always able to discern whatever he was feeling; even when he tries his hardest to hide it from them.

There's a pregnant pause while they all stare at each other and Thor looks annoyingly guilt-free, as he still doesn't understand that this awkwardness is all his fault. Then. Without a word and ignoring Frigga's hand when it clasps over his arm, Loki reaches out and takes Tony by the hand.

Tony immediately wants to pull it back but he restrains himself in time but draws the line at being tugged along. He almost digs his heels into the ground to keep him standing still, but a look from Howard tells him to go along with what Loki's doing. So he does; with his head thudding in his throat and hoping against hope that his palm isn't sweaty against Loki's. 

"Thor." Thor gives a start at the brisk tone from his brother and Loki gives him Tony's hand, pressing the larger fingers around Tony's smaller ones as though he were a father giving his daughter away, "Your duty." He adds, as though he's reminding Thor of something.

Then he just turns away, ignoring how both Tony and Thor are staring at him, before nodding once at his mother, "The ceremony is almost at it's start, mother. The guests are seated now, as is Father. We only await you, my brother and I, the bride's father and - "

"Bride?!" They all stare at him.

"Uh, I - I'm not a ... " He trails off, choosing to glare at Howard instead, "Never mind. Cultural difference."

"And the bride himself." Loki finishes, looking slightly amused at Tony's reaction before promptly turning on his heel and walking out the still open door. Thor keeps a hold of Tony's hand, nodding at Howard and his mother himself as well, before following Loki out; taking Tony with him. 

"Uh, where are we going?" Tony asks, looking over his shoulder at Howard for help, but his dad's now in deep - convenient - conversation with Frigga and they walk in the opposite direction from them anyway, "Thor? Are we not going to go to the ceremony?" 

Please say yes, please say yes, he's not ready for this. 

"Of course we will," Thor beams down at him, now swinging his arm like a five-year-old, and making Tony almost want to smile himself, "However. You are in need of something else first."

Tony frowns, "What? An escape plan?" Thor's sudden laugh takes him by surprise, just as it first had when he'd laughed the first day Tony'd been here, but it's the way that it doesn't reach his eyes that bugs Tony. He's being serious today, then. Perfect. 

"I believe you will be well here, Anthony Stark," Thor then tells him, his smile softening until his teeth are hidden behind lips and blond beard, "I already can see that in you." Okay then.

"Yeah?" Tony rolls his eyes, "Well, maybe you could help if you started to call me Tony now, and not Anthony." Thor grins again but doesn't answer him, turning a corner now and pulling Tony in front of him, instead of tugging him along behind, "Where are we going?" He doesn't know why he asks. He's no idea about any of these corridors, what difference would a direction make?

Thor opens a door to their left in answer to that question and the clatter of a plate dropping in surprise, is the first thing that Tony hears, "The royal dresser." Thor then explains, gently pushing Tony inside. And there goes his heart again, straining to pump it's way out of his chest and into his hand, until he can squeeze it himself, "It's alright. He is expecting us."

"Right." He flicks his eyes around the room; barely noticing the bow the elder, grey-haired man gives him when he steps inside, for his eyes are immediately drawn to something else in the room. Something more important, "And," He reaches out slowly, looking over his shoulder to check that he can, before picking it up with both hands, "This is for me?"

\-----

The hall is utterly full to the brim. 

Literally. Full. To the brim. 

The thin and golden crown that Tony wears weighs a little heavier suddenly, from where it is settled perfectly over his hair after Thor had placed it there - not too obscure that it can't be seen but not to big to be seen as ridiculous, either - and he wonders if that's just his head feeling heavy or if he's losing the strength in it to even hold the crown up anymore. 

It's elvish in it's look and making, tinkly and shining, and actually quite beautiful; the Tolkien-fan in him would totally cry in joy at that if this all didn't make him just want to hurl all over his new shoes.

Tony stands at the top of a set of stairs, Thor still with him, holding his arm now, and he can't help but notice that the blood from his face slowly drains away as he looks over the 'guests'. 

He knows he looks pale, knows he looks terrified, but no one's really looking at him right now, he needs an introduction apparently but - 

"Tony," He does not jump. It's close though, but he doesn't, and it's only his dad anyway. Tony doesn't look at him as Howard steps around Thor, having a murmured and brief conversation with him, before taking over Tony's arm-holding while Thor walks down the steps now toward his own father, "How are you?"

"Don't talk to me."

Howard sighs, "Look. I know you're scared Tony, but - "

"No," Tony forcefully corrects him, "I don't want you to talk to me, because I hate your fucking guts, I'm _fine_ otherwise." Outright lie. He's shaking in his stupid lifted shoes. 

There's the echo of Odin's voice now, booming out over the crowd, but this high up, he can't hear what he's saying - not even sure that he wants to - not to mention the fact that Howard still insists on talking to him.

"Tony," He leans closer, trying to be heard over the vibrations Odin's speech sends over to them, "This may be one of the last times that I get to see and talk to you properly." Tony turns his face away, pressing his lips together, "You're going to be living on an entirely different planet, away from your mother and I, so let's be mature here, shall we."

Go to Hell, Tony wants to say to him, or even: please don't let me go through with this.

But instead, he pulls his arm out of Howard's grip and hugs him. Before anything similar to a rant about respect can come out of his father's angry and bitter mouth. 

Howard stiffens against him, just like Tony had last night when he'd tried the same tactic, but then he's hugging him back just as tight, and Tony hears his name being called down from below. 

He leans forward and whispers in his dad's ear, "I hate you." And then he's walking away.

He knows that Howard follows, he couldn't just stand there could he, but right now he doesn't even care about the fury radiating behind him at all. It mingles with the guilt inside him though, so he casts his eyes down, eventually letting Howard take his arm again to lead him down to stairs.

He's led past Thor, Frigga, a man that looks like Frigga - so he's guessing that's the Uncle - and is then brought to a halt in front of Odin.

He still has his eyes cast down, doesn't want to look really, as his fate is handed over to someone else, but Odin's hand cups under his chin anyway; lifting it up. 

He doesn't smile, not quite, but rather turns Tony toward the guests in the grand hall with the grip on his face, lifting an arm of Tony's with his other hand, "Anthony; Son of Stark. Midgard's Prince, now here in our home, to be welcomed as such." He announces to the people and there's a raise of goblets in Tony's name. 

Prince? Tony blinks. Another culture difference?

He swallows, looking up at the crowd: What does he do now? Does he smile, does he say something, greet them, thank them for their 'hospitality' or something similar? 

But Odin's turning them both away now anyway, tilting his head to one side.

"Loki." There's a set of footsteps behind him and there's Loki again, standing regal and cold in some kind of black and green armor, his hair brushed and styled, neater that it had been before when Thor'd had him in a headlock. 

For being a second meeting, it feels a lot like a first, and Tony finds that he can't meet Loki in the eye.

Odin takes his own son's hand now, still holding one of Tony's, and he places them one atop the other; Loki's hand engulfing Tony's only just slightly. Then, lifting a goblet full of some sort of dark liquid, Odin lifts it to Loki's lips, making him take a long sip of it.

Okay. No vows then. Good, he didn't think he could do that. 

Loki closes his eyes and drinks, opening them when Odin pulls the goblet away, when the liquid is half gone. 

Nervous when it's then presented to him in turn, Tony hesitates to drink the rest but he knows that he has to, so why delay it? 

His skin tingles, though, when he feels Loki's eyes on him as he does just that, so he closes his eyes as well, still keeping them lowered even when the goblet is moved away. 

There a heated glow then, on his hand and he jumps, snapping his head back up up to ask what that drink was and what it's supposed to do to him, when he feels heavy, cool metal on one of his fingers. He glances back down, widening his eyes a little at the coiled silver ring now there; glittering just like the rose had yesterday night, on his table.

He looks up at Loki just as he's getting a disapproving glance from Odin, "Their Midgardian tradition." He says, glancing once at Howard for confirmation.

Tony stares at him. 

\----

With the "joining" - as Odin calls it to his public - now done, there's suddenly a lot of cheering from the crowd and more chanted repeats of their names; conjoined now as though they're inseparable.

Tony keeps his face blank, looking over the faces that he would now have to get used to, if he was going to be living here for the rest of his life.

Howard practically sinks into his seat beside Thor, with relief, when Odin declares it all done, and Tony sits as well when the rest of them do; though his sinking is more due to just how deflated he feels right now.

Because it's done now. It's all announced, bound and completed.

Official. No going back. He's _married_. To a _God_.

"Now," Odin says, raising a hand to silence the crowd, and his wife finishes his sentence for him, "Let us all eat."

So apparently after an official ceremony like this, there's meant to be food for them all. Or a feast, really, judging from the way it's all laid out for them by dozens of servants.

Tony isn't the least bit hungry, he'd hoped for some privacy after all this to maybe even have a little cry, but he at least tries to make an effort - all for making a good impression and all that - but when he sees Frigga speaking tenderly to Thor across the table, he has to stop when there's bile rising in his throat; feeling sick to the stomach with the reminder that his own mother isn't here with him.

For him.

So instead, he continues to look out over the people of Asgard and at the structure of the building. 

The hall is seriously huge, which is probably why he'd been so surprised to see it so full before, and there's more people here than there ever has been at one of his dad's expos and though he's never been shy in his life, he flushes at the thought that they're all here for his marriage. Or for Loki's benefit. Or for both. 

Or, he thinks a little more logically now, more likely because their _King_ had invited them.

Tony sits silently whilst looking, staying rigid and frozen, while everything else bustles around him. 

Chatter builds but he can't hear anything past the rushing in his ears and the heat in his cheeks. Besides. It's not like anyone tries to talk to him anyway; Frigga's more concerned that Odin eats than to see that Tony's barely touched his own food, Howard's more into talking to Thor and Loki's a solid and blank statue sitting beside him.

Tony can practically feel the tension drawing from every pore of his and he can't help but look anywhere and everywhere that's not Loki. Maybe that way he can still deny to himself that this is all still happening.

Loki, eating slowly next to him, sits as regal as he stands; back straight, eyes forward, mouth set in a thin line - whereas Thor sits slouched, laughs loudly, and eats with food in both hands, gulps down wine like he's never going to have it again.

Tony glances sideways at Loki every once in a while though, opening his mouth to say something, to start a conversation but, either nothing comes out at all, or something inappropriate comes into mind instead.

He gives up on even pretending to eat eventually, and drops his hands into his lap, looking down at his entwined fingers and at the ring gleaming on one of them. It's quite beautiful really, silver twisted around like rope, crushed jewels punctured into patterns around it. It suits him and, with a start, he remembers Loki's words about Midgardian tradition. 

Meaning that he'd asked Howard about rings at Weddings. Tony swipes his thumb over it, blinking down at his lap, until he senses Loki stiffening beside him.

He looks up when someone else speaks, a voice that isn't as deep as his 'husband's', "Loki."

Loki nods at the two men that stand there, one of them blond and one ginger, "Fandral," He says to the one that spoke, his eyes hard but he does smile at them in greeting, "And Volstagg. A pleasure."

Fandral doesn't say much to Loki after that, just smiles back at him, though his is a little more genuine and softer when it turns to Tony, "Tradition," He explains, placing a chest on the table before him, "To gift something for a Prince's Bride."

Bride. Again. Tony inwardly groans, he's not going to survive living here. 

"Thanks." Tony says, looking down at the chest with what he hopes is gratitude on his face, "It - what is it?"

Fandral leans down, "'Tis a surprise." He says with a grin and Tony raises his eyebrow, watching as the grin turns sheepish when Loki clears his throat at him. The both of them bow at Loki then, and at Odin, smiling at Thor and heading over there to talk with him. 

A dark haired and beautiful woman follows after them, greeting Loki just as they had done, but she at least doesn't call Tony a bride when she lays down her gift; though the people that come afterward insist on doing so. 

Gift upon gift is lain down on the table and on the floor, either for Tony or for Loki, but the former beats by a mile. They must really want this treaty to go well, he thinks, or they're just nice. Nah. No culture's that nice on principle.

Eventually though, Loki just stands from the table when the chatter begins to build even more, wine and ale causing anyone who wasn't drunk before to be completely out of it now. 

Tony, himself, hasn't drunk a single drop despite really wanting to, knowing that if he got drunk now, he could very well ruin this and then what?

When Loki stands, Tony turns to look up at him, freezing at the hand that is presented to him to help make him stand. He takes it hesitantly when Howard nods at him, following Loki out of the hall as everyone else continues to party. 

No one even notices them going. Some wedding.

"You," Loki says, his voice making Tony jump after seeing him sit so quietly for so long. The servant he had called walks toward him and Loki releases Tony's hand, "You know where my room is. Take him there."

He leaves Tony with the woman then, walking down the corridor and away from them.

Tony can't help the pang he feels at that, knowing already that his husband doesn't even want him just as much as he himself doesn't want Loki. 

First stage of depression, here he comes.

\---- 

Loki's room is as big as Tony's new one is, though he wonders if this will be his actual bedroom now seeing as his husband will be sleeping here.

The thought makes him all cold with a nervousness that he's never really experienced. 

He's been looking around the room for a while now, taking in the interior while waiting for when Loki would finally come, and he feels just like he had this morning when no one had come for him then. 

The light outside is growing dim, nighttime approaching faster than it does on Earth, or maybe he's just lost a lot of time to his thoughts, but he stands by the window when the sun sets, letting the wind pull his hair from his forehead and cool him down. 

With no electricity here - ugh. Nope he not going to survive here - it doesn't take him long to find some candles or to light them. He lines them up carefully and he's just blowing out the splint in his hand after lighting the last one, when the door finally opens again and Loki walks in.

Tony drops the splint.

He quickly bends to pick it up in case he didn't douse the flame enough, but Loki walks past him before he can, picking the spilt up for him and tossing it through the open window.

He's panting, flushed in the face and there's a couple of bruises on his arms where the sleeves are rolled up. He's out of his armor now and in more casual looking clothes; a sewed green shirt and leather brown trousers. They suit him, Tony finds himself thinking, and then he looks away.

Crossing the room, Loki shuts the window screens, locking them, and tugging the sheets over it, "It's freezing in here." He says, as though accusing Tony of something.

"Sorry." Tony says quietly, staring at him, "I was - your room was actually quite hot when I first came in here." Lie. He was hot because of his own nervousness, not because of the room's temperature.

Loki looks at him. He has green eyes, Tony notices, startlingly bright too, which is quite rare on Earth and Tony can't help but stare at them even more because of that. 

"Where is the servant-girl?" Loki asks him, moving away from the window and pulling down his rolled-up sleeves. 

Tony backs up a little, shrugging, "She - I don't know, she left ages ago."

Loki frowns at him, "She left you here alone." It's not a question but Tony answers anyway; he nods, "You. You have been alone here all this time?" Tony nods again, slightly more hesitantly though, but the surprise on Loki's face is what spurs him to ask:

"Something wrong?"

"Yes," Loki says slowly, "I'm wondering why you are not angry with me." Okay. Blunt. Straight forward enough answer too, but - "I left you with her over four hours ago. The ceremony has long since been over Tony Stark."

Tony doesn't react outwardly toward this, but inside he's a lot more collected than he should be. Why _isn't_ he angry? 

He hates being made to wait, hates sitting around doing nothing but, maybe with this, maybe it's because he thought it was better. If he was alone here, then Loki and him wouldn't have to - "I'm not angry." He says, "Bored, yeah, but not angry." Then, because Loki's looking at him strangely now, he adds, "And it's just 'Tony'. We're married now, leave off the surname."

Loki raises an eyebrow, "Hm."

Tony presses his lips together when Loki does nothing more but just look over at him, and he feels the sudden need to hug himself protectively. Then, turning his head away, Loki abruptly blows out three of the seven candles that Tony had lit.

The room grows steadily darker, especially when Loki moves them all apart as well, spreading the light until the room's only just slightly dim instead of well-lit.

Tony stands frozen in the middle of it, watching Loki move around, kick things out of the way, peel the blankets back on the bed - Oh God. Here it comes.

His hands are shaking so he clasps them in front of him, digging his nails into his palms but his shoulders join in with the trembling and he has to duck his head to hide the fear that's probably showing on his face a lot more clearly now. 

Loki doesn't say anything while he moves around but when he stands beside the bed, he reaches out and takes Tony by the arm, slowly pulling him down to sit on the bed; kneeling before him while Tony still has his head ducked and his hands now in his lap.

"I - " It sounds like a sob, and he doesn't even know what he wants to say but Loki's unbuttoning his shirt and taking his jacket off and he can't stop _shaking_!

Loki stops with him when Tony tries to speak out again and instead move to untie the strings on his own shirts collar, tugging it over his head as he does. His hair's not really mussed but the muscles on his chest is what grabs Tony's attention. He's pale everywhere then, it seems, and can clearly hold out in a fight judging from what Tony can see. 

There's a fist shaped bruise on his hip bone though that catches most of Tony's attention, and when Loki follows his gaze and looks down at it as well, he can actually smiles at him, "I was sparring with my brother." He explains in a whisper, his hands going to Tony's buttons again, "Why I was gone so long is because four hours is what it takes to stop his temper tantrums when he loses."

Unexpectedly, surprisingly, that's what makes Tony laugh. For the first time since he'd gotten here, but he chokes on it when Loki's fingers then curve around the collar of his shirt, tugging it over his shoulders and arms before letting it slide the rest of the way off itself. 

Goosebumps prickle over his skin and he shivers from both the chill of the room and the sensation of someone else's hands on him. 

Loki stands when Tony starts to shrug out of the rest of his shirt himself, still going along with the silent motions that he's been keeping up consistently, and he pulls his own trousers down then; clearly confident with himself.

The light in the room is dim but still, Tony looks away. 

He shuts his eyes when there are hands on his, cooler and larger, rougher almost - if that's even possible; Tony's a mechanic, has been since he was 7, his hands are callous and scarred already, but Loki's beat him.

"You're shaking," Loki murmurs to him, kneeling again and lowering his voice into a sigh when Tony doesn't answer, "You do not want this." Again, it isn't a question, and this time Tony doesn't answer it directly.

"It's not you." He whispers to him, because it's not, that's the truth of it. It's not Loki, it's the whole theme of all this; this marriage, this treaty, his leaving home, his _father_ being the world's biggest - "It's not, trust me, it's - I just - " He sighs, biting his lip and wishing that he didn't fumble over his words when he was nervous, "This just isn't what I - " He sucks in a gasp when Loki suddenly pushes him onto his back on the bed. His feet are flat on the ground, legs spread around Loki who still kneels between them and who looks down at him now.

"This is not the life that you wanted for yourself." He finishes for Tony, leaning an arm down and gently tugging Tony's shoes off for him, tossing them over his shoulder in the sort of impatient gesture that he doesn't expect from an alien; especially from an alien Prince.

"No," Tony agrees, breathless, "It's not." Loki hums in acknowledgement, lowering his eyes and placing his hands on Tony's knees. Tony's own hands are by his head, his fingers curled as though they're stuck bent that way, and he doesn't even move to shove Loki off of him because - why? He's not being cruel. He's not being anything like what Fury or Howard said, "Not to mention the fact that I'm never going to see my family or my friends ever again, because of this."

Loki's eyelashes brush against his, "Do you love your family?" The question takes Tony by surprise, especially when Loki leans even closer now.

"Some of them." He whispers, his breath hitching when Loki rubs against him. Loki hums again, looking curious, but he doesn't say anything else on the subject.

"You've stopped shaking."

Tony blinks, his stomach tensing when Loki presses against him again, and he knows that he's being purposeful now, because there's heat bubbling in his stomach from it, cracking through the tension in him. 

But he has stopped shaking; Loki's words having dulled the fear just a little, but there's still that nausea in him; fevering him out while he lies there. He really needs to calm down, he's being stupid.

Leaning back, Loki lifts Tony's legs with one arm and Tony has to press a hand to his mouth to not scream at that, helping Loki by shuffling backward himself when he realises what he's trying to do. Lying on pillows is so much more comfortable than lying sideways, and with his legs now straighter, he can settle down a little more. 

The bed creaks when Loki climbs on alongside him, hovering over Tony with his arms bracketing his head and covering him in shadow; blocking the light from the four candles in the room. 

Tony's heart thuds in his throat as he stares up at him, breathing in quickly and sharply, but that all stops when Loki dips his hands under the waistband of his trousers. He doesn't tug them off in a rush, not like in the movies, where the groom is so impatient and so mad with lust that he just rips the clothes off and fucks his wife into the mattress, but instead, he slides it down Tony's legs until the only sound in the room is the scrape of the fabric over his skin.

Howard had insisted, back on Earth, that he go to Asgard prepared completely to be seen naked by a Prince but Tony had drawn the line with a lot of things. He wishes he hadn't now, because Loki is by far more gorgeous to look at than he is, and if he already doesn't want this either, then regret will come along soon too. When he finally realises that he could do so much more better than Tony.

Howard _had_ managed to get Tony to allow his legs and arms to be waxed however, which is probably why he's shivering so much, but when Loki's hands slide down his bare legs up to his thighs, it feels a lot nicer than he thought it'd be and he suddenly doesn't care that he's been plucked and trimmed for presentation. 

Glancing down, Tony forces himself to look at Loki as well, just as the he was doing to him, but when his gaze is almost immediately drawn to what's there between his legs, he can't help but flush at it. God, stop it, he's being ridiculous.

"You're shaking again," Loki murmurs, sitting up to pull the blankets up and around them both, covering them in it to hide from both the light from the candles and the chill from the air. Tony wants to make some dry comment about pillow forts but his throat's gone tight again and he feels like he's going to cry, which is just the worst thing to do right now and he prays that he won't.

"I've never - " He stops, clearing his throat when he sounds too tearful, "The gene," He starts again, feeling the need to explain his fear, "The gene that I have, the gene that everyone wants?" Loki nods, pressing his face into Tony's neck when his own clearly starts to ache from holding up the thick blanket around them. Tony stares up at the patterns on the material, instead of focusing on the lips pressed to his skin, "My dad didn't want me to just get pregnant by anyone so he was more than a little strict when it came to boyfriends and college." He sighs, "I've been with women, more than I can count, but with a guy it was never really an option so - so I've never actually - "

Loki leans back and he's suddenly way too close for comfort so, there goes Tony's heart again, "Your father. Do you love him?"

Tony swallows, his eyes flicking from both of Loki's not sure which one he should look at until he settles on the bridge of his nose, blinking twice while he thinks about even answering, "Maybe," He says, voice small. Then, clenching a fist, remembering everything that's happened in this past year, he says instead, "No. No, actually, I don't."

There's the barest twitch on Loki's lips before they're slowly pressed to Tony's. 

Tony's heart almost stops.

The kiss is soft, gentle even, and Tony's eyes flutter shut when Loki presses it in deeper, moaning against him when they're rubbed together again.

He pulls away with a hiss, moaning for a second time when Loki rolls his hips because wow, that's - that's actually really hot and - not exactly ... what he expected.

But come on, has _any_ of this been what he "expected"? He should really stop trying to even guess at everything now, should just go along with it and let it happen. 

It's going to happen anyway, he knows that, has known that from the beginning, this is essential to every marriage he's heard that and knows that.

But. It's different now; Loki's not using it against him, he isn't rushing him, hurting him or leaving him behind in here while just going out and celebrating without him. 

None of the scenarios that Tony had imagined before. 

Loki's also - don't jinx it, _don't jinx it_ \- not mentioning his gene any more than Tony has. He isn't asking about it, teasing him about it, taunting, bullying, prodding answers out of him about getting pregnant. Everything everyone else has done to Tony throughout his life, but his own husband has decided to ignore the reason for their marriage happening in the first place.

Odd, and maybe suspicious but let's not go there, so - 

Loki kisses him again, both his lips now pursing over Tony's bottom one; sucking on it, scraping over it with his teeth. Tony shivers under him though he's now toasty warm from Loki's body heat and the blanket draped over them.

"Just oil," Loki whispers to him in warning, his hair falling over his eyes and tickling the tip of Tony's nose until he can't help but scrunch it. Loki smiles at that, the sort of smile that's like when you don't really want to laugh at something so trivial, but it happens anyway, and the next thing you know you're grinning at it instead. 

Because of that, Tony's looking at the gleam of Loki's teeth more than the fingers that brush over his inner thighs, so he sucks in a startled gasp when something presses against him down there. Loki slides an arm around his shoulders, turning them both onto their side, the blanket slipping off slightly until Loki yanks it back on with a roll of his eyes. 

Facing each other now, Loki kisses his neck tenderly whilst slowly pushing his finger through. Tony's eyes widen, he knows what's happening, he's not stupid enough to have not done some research on this despite not ever done the act himself, but it's still surreal to know that it's actually happening to _him_ now. And not some random guy on the internet.

There's a sharp sort of pain as Loki works his finger in, and by the time it's in completely, Tony's face is pressed and buried in Loki's shoulder and he's shaking again; wanting to tell him to pull out and to do something else because this can't be what it's like. It hurts. Even with the oil, he can feel a burn inside him and - 

"Ah - " He snaps his head up when a second finger pushes in, biting his lip when the pain of the first intensifies and he's suddenly afraid that Loki won't stop when - or if - he tells him to but, before that thought's even fully formed in his head, Loki stops.

Tony sucks in a breath, trying to control his breathing.

Loki's looking at him quietly, pulling back his head to meet Tony's eyes as he tugs their bodies closer together; keeping his fingers still inside Tony's body.

He's stopped though, for _Tony_ , and he isn't starting again; the relief that Tony feels now is a whole lot more immense than the helplessness he'd felt before, when they'd first told him about his engagement. 

Because if Loki's stopping now, for him, when Tony's not even told him to, then there's every chance that he's not going to be anything like what Tony's imagined him to be. Or what Howard or Fury's said, but - 

Don't. _Jinx_ It. Goddamn it. 

"It hurts?" They're still whispering, have been since they'd started this, and Tony nods, whispering back: "Yeah. A little." Understatement.

"It does at the start, I know," Loki pulls the two fingers out a little before pressing them back in, "Tolerance only comes from experience, I'm afraid, but we do - "

"We have to do this, I know," Tony nods, squeezing his eyes shut when those fingers scissor inside him, "It makes the marriage - ah - binding, and - " He can't get a proper breath in when suddenly, along with the bite of pain, there's a surprising spike of pleasure in him, "Oh."

And then, leaning over him now, instead of lying down, Loki _smiles_ down at him, "Yes?" He asks, sounding husky and a little native but he is an alien, who knows whether they have some kind of other language. God, Tony hopes not, he doesn't want to have to learn something else - other than culture - whilst living here. 

Tony clasps his fingers around Loki's wrists, pushing the fingers, still in him, deeper himself, "Yes." He whispers back. 

And then Loki's pulling them even closer, kissing him again.

\----- 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay, so, hopefully the prompter for this story likes how it's going so far? :) 
> 
> Any thoughts from everyone else is welcome too ;) <33


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm so sorry this is so so so late!! Apologies all around!!

.

Tony wakes to an empty bed.

Though he'd really been expecting it, it still sort of stings a little nevertheless. Hm. Guess this must have been what Alisha had felt like after Prom. 

He sits up when he comes to the conclusion that Loki isn't actually in the adjacent room or anything and is actually genuinely gone. Memories of last night then run through his mind and he moans when turning over seems to make his stomach turn. 

Phantom fingers press inside him and he squeezes his eyes shut, though he's not sure why. 

Loki had been ... gentle. More gentle than Tony could ever have imagined his first time to actually be. Everything still aches, however, though he knows - despite not exactly having an abundance of knowledge about it all - that it could have been a whole lot worse. 

He'd not been expecting fireworks or anything, but still. 

He runs a hand through his hair, grimacing at the bad taste in his mouth, and slowly sliding off of the bed to pad over toward his bag. He vaguely recalls that it hadn't been here last night, but in a haze of sleepiness, he doesn't really care and just rummages inside it for his toothbrush and toothpaste. 

He's learnt, from the two boarding schools that he's been to and from going-abroad-to-Stark-Industry-meetings, that keeping to every day routines always seems to help with homesickness. 

There's a basin-like thing in the adjacent room and he peers inside the room first, just checking, before stepping around the open door and shutting it behind him.

He leaves a gap, mostly because none of these bedroom doors seem to have knobs or handles and he's scared that he'll be locked in, but also because he wants to be able to hear from the other room - just in case Loki comes back or something - only to find Tony standing here with a mouth full of frothing mint toothpaste and his hair sticking up in all directions. Not exactly an attractive sight, so actually, he's kind of glad that the guy _hadn't_ been here when he'd woken up before. 

He brushes quickly, dunking his head into the water after clogging the hole at the bottom of the basin to let it fill for a bit, and trying to press down his hair before giving up and combing it. He wonders while he does, what he's going to do when stuff like his aftershave and toothpaste runs out, and isn't sure whether he should find out if there's an Asgardian substitute, or anything similar, before that happens. 

If there isn't, he doesn't want to make the first question that he ever asks his new family to be something _mortal_ and/or just plain, embarrassing. He's had enough embarrassment lately, and he really wants to make some good first impressions.

He wants to convince them all that they can let him live on Earth, is what he wants, but he knows that there's no chance of that happening, not until there's a child first. An heir - He shuts his eyes, feeling a mild headache beginning to form. Ugh. 

He needs to get out of this room. Now. 

As soon as he steps outside, he pauses, wondering just why he did leave. He then remembers that he's still naked and thanks God for small miracles that there's another room before outside _outside_. Looking through his bag again, he finds something presentable - a buttoned-shirt, leather jacket and black jeans - and he quickly puts them on, dousing himself with enough deodorant to make himself choke for about a minute, and to cover up the smell of - come? Sweat? He doesn't know, but there's something on his skin and he'd really like a shower right now. 

Then. He leaves. 

Taking a deep breath, he slowly looks down the corridor, carefully, before fully stepping outside of the room. He shuts it after him, hearing the click echo almost everywhere with a grimace and hoping that that doesn't mean that he's just locked it, because he's nowhere else to go if he needs to come back later on. 

Unless Loki's inside. 

His stomach rolls again and he resists the urge to either throw up or to check himself out with his father's tester. He's not pregnant, he'd know, and anyway - it doesn't work like that, it's got to at least have more time, right? And he's only actually had sex with the guy _once_. He can't be.

He wanders the palace for a while, looking through corridors and doors to see if there's anything going on that he could maybe either join in on or look over from the side. Just something to stop him from being so bored. Many Asgardians walk past him and, though most ignore him, a lot of them give him the sort of looks that makes him want to verbally lash out at them, to say that he doesn't want to be here either, but he holds his tongue despite it all and walks past with his head down. 

He sees Frigga. Twice. But doesn't approach her, mainly because she'd been busy both times, and because he wouldn't know what to say to her now that the wedding's all over. He also, sort of, guesses that she'll probably want to ask him about Loki and - with the slight warmth of arousal and embarrassment settling in the bottom of his stomach at just the thought of last night - he'd really rather not. 

Instead, he finds a small bench-like seat just outside in a garden by the walls of the rooms that he and his father had been given yesterday, and he looks up at the sun with a sigh. Asgard really is beautiful and he'd love to explore it all properly - without getting looks from people for being in places that he shouldn't be in - but right now his feet ache horribly from having walked for over a few hours and his thighs throb along with his pulse with each step. 

The flowers around him are too bright for so early in the morning, but he doesn't mind. They've been cared for pretty frequently, too, as far as he can tell, and he fingers at one of the petals of something similar to a rose; that hangs just by his head. He wonders if maybe he should pick a few, to take them to his new mother-in-law as a sort of gift of thanks for their 'hospitality' or just as an excuse to see her. He likes her. 

But he doesn't know whose garden this is, if it's anyone's at all, and he doesn't want to tread on toes on his _second_ day here. So he leaves the idea alone and just tries to relax.

After a while, though, of just sitting and looking around, breathing in deep and looking out over the only thing here that seems to be similar to his own home, he stands and leaves the garden behind. The palace feels too dull and cold after the warmth and brightness of the nature outside, but he ignores the need to wrap his arms around himself and shiver. The leather jacket helps a little anyway and he rubs at his left wrist with one hand, vaguely remembering how Loki had kissed the inside of it while thrusting into him. 

For his first time, for his - loss? of his backdoor virginity, it hadn't been so bad. He'd been panicking before, terrified of what Thor, and then later, Loki would do to him behind closed doors. And instead, he'd been kissed and coddled and held through the pain of it all until the pleasure had overcome everything else. He'd come with his mouth pressed to Loki's under the blankets, his legs wrapped around strong hips and his arms curled around a thin neck. 

He doesn't even remember falling asleep. Or Loki leaving him there, alone. Why had - 

Maybe he'd gotten bored. With a sleeping Tony being no more fun than an awake and trembling Tony ... 

He sighs running a hand down his face and, again, wishing for a shower just as he begins to feel the shirt under his jacket start to stick to his skin, from the sweat of having sat outside for so long in the heat. 

Maybe he could ask someone to -

"Are you lost, Anthony Stark?"

Tony starts, almost biting his bottom lip in half to keep his scream to himself, and turning around; taking a single step back when all he sees is an armored chest and blond hair. Fandral then. His guide from the day before and the first to give him a gift at the wedding. 

Fandral smiles at him, not as tall as other Asgardians but still having a good few inches over Tony. 

"Uh - no. I'm - I'm cool." He tries to smile back but, when seeing a face from the wedding brings back the reminder that he's _married_ now, he feels a little stretched out by everything. Not to mention the fact that he's just realized that he's been walking a little funny, "I've only just woken up, actually." Lie. But who cares. Uh, actually ... maybe they would. 

Please say Asgardians aren't early risers. 

"It's almost noon." Oops. "But then, the wedding ceremony did go on through the night, so I can understand that you're tired from it all." Tony blinks. Right. It did? Fandral extends an arm to him. "Shall we walk?"

Um. Tony looks him over, from his smiling face to the sword jutting out in it's scabbard by his hip. He doesn't take the arm but he does nod. "Sure. Where are you headed?"

"Nowhere in particular." Fandral says, his smile dimming a little into something that's more casual and informal, and he walks beside Tony. He's a little less stompy than Thor had been yesterday and he at least doesn't try to _take_ him by the arm, like the big guy had before, despite the refusal, "So. Have you opened my gift yet, then?"

That brings a smile from Tony, "No, I've not opened anyone's really, I was a little - um. Busy, last night." Thankfully, there's no comment on that, "What is it?"

Fandral gives him a look, "Did I not say that it was a surprise, yesterday?" He then shakes his head, as though pretending to be disappointed in Tony for even asking and, after being the second Asgardian to make Tony grin, that earns him some points at least. 

"Alright, fine. I'll have a look at it later." Fandral hums his approval, following Tony when they turn a corner, "So, uh. What do you people do here all day?" That gets him a shrug.

"Many of us were just now on the training ground beside the palace." Fandral gestures, though it's a pretty useless gesture, really, seeing as Tony hasn't a clue where that is anyway, "Thor was, as per usual," He rolls his eyes, though it's fond, friendly - here's a bond there, Tony notes, looking at him, "Showing off his grandiose skills whilst the rest of us grew bored and awaited our turn." Tony represses the need to comment about some of the "jocks" back at his old boarding school at that. Puppy-dog Thor may have seemed yesterday but, after seeing the damage on Loki from their 'scrap' last night and hearing about this, he isn't really sure that he'd be okay with living with someone like that. Maybe he did get the better deal. But then again, he doesn't really know much about _Loki_ either. 

"Does Loki train?" 

Fandral barks out a laugh, short and muffled when a servant glances at him, but it's just as fond as his eye-roll for Thor had been. Hm. "You'd have better luck looking for him during one of his Father's speeches." So he doesn't go to those either. Right. So when exactly had Howard even _met_ Loki, then, or was it all really just hearsay on his part? That reminds him. His father. He's not seen him at all, so that must mean - he's left. It is morning and he was only really meant to be here for the wedding, so - he's _gone_. 

Without even a goodbye. 

"What does he do then?" Tony asks, ignoring how his heart flutters at the thought that he no longer has someone from Earth here with him. That he's now alone. "While you lot train?" 

Fandral stretches an arm as he walks, scratching as his beard, "Well, I suppose the library would be your best chance at finding him. He's mostly hiding away in there usually, researching or studying. Or even, sometimes in his temple, manipulating with his magic 'spells' and tools." 

"So he doesn't train with the rest of you, at all, then?" Solitude? Or bullying?

Fandral shares a smile with him, "His brother tends to tease." Oh. So embarrassment then. He can work with that. Gym class wasn't exactly his favorite time of the day either, "I can take you there if you'd like." Tony looks at him.

"What?"

"To the library," Fandral clarifies, "To search for him. Loki -"

"No." Tony says quickly, though he's not exactly sure why. Loki hadn't hurt him. The opposite, actually, but - some part of him still wants to get a grip of things, still wants to pretend that this isn't happening, "Uh. I actually ... could use a shower. To clean? Myself, I mean."

"You wish to bathe?" 

"Yes please." Going for bright, and instead sounding like a teenage girl at her first job interview, "Do you have private ones? Or, is it all public here?" Please have private ones. Because while Tony Stark doesn't mind being naked in public, Tony Stark does mind being the only naked _mortal_ in a room full of naked Asgardians. 

"There are those for the people and those for the Princes. Well," Fandral tilts his head, "For the princes _and_ , occasionally, their friends." Tony raises an eyebrow, "I'm afraid that that is as 'private' as I can give you."

"Okay, fine. But - uh - does 'friends' include me?" Fandral laughs, putting an arm around Tony's shoulders and turning them both around. 

"You are _married_ to Loki now, Anthony. That makes you a 'Prince' of Asgard yourself." Right, right. He's royalty now. Sort of. And that would even be kind of cool, did he not know from his father that he'd probably have little to no power anyway though. It's just a title for him. But still.

Fandral steers him away and Tony resists the need to shove his arm off of him as they turn, letting the guy drape over him, and taking comfort in the knowledge that when he gets to know everyone here better, he'll feel a lot more confident in elbowing him next time.

.

~ 

.

The baths for Thor, Loki and their friends are over 5 miles long and have two private rooms that are made for at least three people each. Water runs everywhere, tickling over Tony's bare toes as he walks over warm marble floor, and it trickles and sprays out of holes in the walls; bubbling over drains. It looks a little modern, almost Roman too, and actually kind of 'neat'.

He can deal with this. This is ... this is alright. 

Fandral joins him, of course, and he wonders if anyone's just sent the guy along to 'help' Tony but he can't be bothered to ask why and who, if that's the case. Tony slides his foot over the warm water, feeling like he should be shivering when, actually, all he feels is pleasurably hot and light from all the steam.

Fandral had explained that he would have suggested the 'private' bathes anyhow, as the public had routines and so on that would need to be completed before joining the main baths and Tony would have been lost in all of that without having it be explained beforehand. Which Fandral isn't willing to do. People tend to stare, as well, apparently, and - when naked - that's really more than a little awkward. 

Here, though, where no one but Fandral, Volstagg, Loki, Thor, Odin and - uh, Hagan? Hogun? - whatever, can come inside, no one really bothers with formal or official bathing routines and just gets to it. 

Tony sits on the floor of one of the private rooms and shuts his eyes against the water lightly spraying over his face. Much better. He hears a splash nearby that likely means that Fandral's sitting just opposite him and tries to relax. Which, after everything that's happened, is actually a little easy. Surprisingly. 

Maybe all he really needed was just to wind down for a bit.

"Tell me of Midgard." Fandral asks after a while and Tony, keeping his eyes shut, shakes his head, "Ha - Why not?"

"Rather not think of it. I've always had a bit of a tendency to get homesick." There's another silence before Tony decides to break it this time, "You tell me about Asgard, instead. I mean, I'm going to be living here, aren't I. There's bound to be things I should know."

"Would you not rather learn of it all by exploring yourself?" Fandral asks, and even by the _tone_ Tony knows the guy's waggling an eyebrow at him knowingly. Or something similar, at least. "After all, your father informed us this morning that you did not like to be, ah, 'spoon-fed', your knowledge." That's - Wait. He'd - Oh, for God's _sake_ Dad!

"Yeah, that's true, I guess." Tony opens his eyes now, trying not to let his anger cloud him now, "What else did he say about me?"

"I'm not sure." Fandral's leaning against a wall, letting water cascade over his hair and chest. He's sprawled with his legs wide and, looking at him, Tony realizes that it isn't just Loki who's so - big. Maybe/probably it's an Asgardian thing. Bastards. "I was not a part of the conversation. It was really only for both Thor and Loki. I simply came early to meet them, and overheard."

So Howard had been telling Thor and Loki about him. Had been ruining Tony's plans for good first impressions probably, and likely giving them false ideas about who Tony is and what he likes. 

Tony hides almost everything from his parents, even Maria, and confides mostly in Jarvis, so all that Howard actually _knows_ about him is really the 'fake' Tony that he becomes, only when he was around _them_ , rather than who he actually is. 

Perfect. Absolutely perfect. 

And why the hell had he been telling _Thor_ too - what even _is_ this? Being bombarded with expectations and rules and promises by his father, only for the man himself to break them all when Tony's back is turned. 

Or when he's sleeping - After getting _married_. 

This is his second day of being so, or is it his first really? and already things are going wrong. He suddenly wants to go back to the room, curl up in blankets and sleep until tomorrow. 

"Yeah, well, anyway." Tony continues, trying hard to suppress his anger with difficulty, "Yes, I do prefer to find things out for myself, you're right. But Asgard's _huge_. I've only seen a little section of it, and even then, it wasn't much because we were heading for the palace only." Plus his little walk-about this morning, "So, I was just wondering if there was anything that you could tell me about it all."

"There will be plenty of time for exploring yourself, later on," Fandral murmurs, and by now, he sounds a little strained. 

Tony pauses, staring at him, before it clicks, "Someone's already promised to show me around, haven't they." Fandral doesn't answer so Tony takes that as a yes. "Alright, fine, so tell me about something else then."

"Like what?"

"Use your imagination." Tony mutters, beginning to lose his patience. Is everyone on Asgard this mellow? 

"I could talk of Loki?" Is the next obvious suggestion and Tony sighs, feeling tension beginning to bubble up. But he may as well. Exploring isn't going to get him anywhere with regards to learning anything about Loki's personality, so - he nods. Albeit slowly, hesitating; making his reservations clear, "What would you like to know?"

"Uh," Tony shrugs, hunching over and holding himself closer. As though even mentioning Loki, mentioning his - _husband_ \- will actually call him here. 'Speak of the devil', and all. "Well, what's he _like_?"

"Ah." Fandral grimaces, thinking, "You are asking the wrong person."

"You offered." Tony counters, getting a little grumpy now. He usually likes to shower in peace, but with this guy, that's starting to become highly unlikely. 

"That I did." Fandral laughs, rolling his shoulders back and sighing, "Hm. Well. He is - Loki's _complicated_." 

"Right."

"Yes." He clears his throat, "What else is there that you'd like to know?"

Tony half laughs, sitting up a little straighter, "Wha - Oh, come on, that hardly counts as an answer, I kind of already _knew_ that. I mean - it's obvious." Fandral frowns and, almost slapping a hand to his face, Tony frowns at him, "I need a little more than that, is what I mean, big guy."

All he gets is a confused shrug, "Again, is this not something that you would rather learn of yourself?" 

Tony sighs, looking down and shutting his eyes again.

"Not really, no."

There's a splash as Fandral sits up a little straighter, and then another bout of silence. 

"I should not even be talking with you at all, Anthony Stark, let alone discussing your husband with you." Ugh. 'Husband'. It sounds weirder when someone else says it. "I should even, perhaps, send someone for him in fact." Tony opens his eyes to look at him, startled. He looks a little uncomfortable, like he's broken some kind of rule or something. Maybe he has, "I should really have already done so."

Tony frowns, "Why?"

"Because you're _his_ now," Fandral explains, completely oblivious to how Tony's hands clenches over his bare legs at that, growing rigid because - yep - this is everything he's afraid of, "He may be wondering where you are, we should have - "

"No, wait a second okay, just _stop_." Tony holds a hand up and Fandral raises an eyebrow, looking amused, "I'm going to make something clear to you right now, and I don't even care if I'm offending you or Odin or whoever, but if you try and tell me right now that I have to ask him permission before doing anything, then I can tell you right now. That that is _not_ going to end well." 

There's a pause, and then, Fandral just fucking smiles at him. Again. "I - understand why you may have reservations for this, but Loki is Asgardian, Anthony." Slow, monotoned. Like it's _Tony_ who's the backward idiot here. "It's only natural that you defer to your superio - "

"Yeah, well - I'm _Midgardian_. I don't have a superior. I live myself, as I am, and I'm not changing." And suddenly, _everything's_ spewing out, "I'm not a trophy, I'm not a 'bride', and I'm not some sort of breeding machine here just for people to pawn off to each other whenever they feel like it. I'm a person and I'm not asking anyone for permission just for _doing_ anything. If I'm going to be forced to live here, then I'm going to be fucking _living_ here, okay."

The water is suddenly thunderingly loud in the silence that follows. Tony's breathing heavily whilst Fandral doesn't look like he's even breathing at all, and, belatedly, he wonders if maybe he's actually gone too far.

But then - 

"Loki." Fandral murmurs, looking up, and everything in Tony freezes just as the door just off to his left, shuts. That's it, Tony thinks, as he hears footsteps, he's spoiled it. All of it. He's ruined the alliance before it's even begun and he's either going to be sent back to Earth, where his father'll be absolutely furious with him - which is a lot more terrifying than it sounds considering how active he is with his fists - or he'll be sent before Odin to be put into one of those trials that Fury had told him about before, "I - "

"Shut up." Loki bites and Fandral sighs, looking down. He doesn't look even a little worried over Loki's anger but, hell, Tony fucking is, "You were told to leave him." Tony blinks.

Leave him? Him being Tony? Why would he need to leave him alone? Tony looks at Fandral. He doesn't seem dangerous, but - 

Fandral sighs again but doesn't answer, and instead, stands slowly, resigned, and makes his way outside. Loki doesn't turn toward Tony at all during this and it's only when Tony clears his throat pointedly, does he even look away from the door. 

"Um. Is there a problem?" He's looked at after a slow blink. Similar to the way that Loki had looked at him, before, when Tony had told him that the maid had left him alone, "I mean - " He clears his throat when it begins to run dry and tries to come up with an excuse for something that he doesn't even know that he's done. But, whatever it is, looking at Loki now, it's obviously something wrong. "You weren't here when I woke up so I left and, when Fandral found me, I wanted a shower so I - "

"Fandral is not a member of my family. He is not to talk with you, and I made that clear to him last night. I apologize if you think differently but that is the case, and it shall stay that way." Tony blinks. This ... Loki, is more than a little different from the Loki last night, "Are you finished?"

"I - " Tony stares at him, and, though he supposes that maybe he shouldn't - and also, because he's never really learnt not to poke where he's not meant to anyway - he says, "What's wrong with you?"

Loki frowns, "What?"

"You - why are you so angry about this? Is it really such a big deal that the guy was talking to me? He wasn't doing anything, and I kinda think that I can choose who I want to talk to and when I want to talk to them. It's not your choice." Loki's expression doesn't change. "Just making it clear," Tony continues, a little quieter now, "That you don't - control me. Okay?"

"I never said that I would." Loki says and it's then that Tony notices how soaked his clothes are getting. He's in the same casual wear from before, if only something a little brighter for the day rather than night. His shirt's a light shade of brown, which actually seems to suit him, and with it sticking to his skin from the water, he doesn't exactly look unappealing. Now if only he'd stop frowning so much, "Merely angry that my commands were not met with."

Tony resists the urge to mutter: "You can't always get what you want." and bows his head to try and relax against the water again. This, apparently, is the wrong thing to do, as Loki sighs and sits before Tony on the floor. He's still frowning. Perfect. And here, Tony had almost been thinking that maybe they could even try to get along as a couple, now that this is all official. 

"What did Fandral say to you?" He asks and, okay. That's a little unexpected. "You were shouting before he saw me, what did he say to you?"

Oh. Um. "Nothing much." Tony says, "Nothing I didn't _correct_ him on, at least." 

Loki hums, leaning forward and running a hand over the back of Tony's neck, not stopping even when Tony stiffens against him and tenses, and gradually, when Tony doesn't move away from him, the frown melts away. "I've clothes for you, outside. Attire appropriate for living here." And suddenly he's brisk, just like he had been when Tony had first met him in that room before, "Would you like some privacy while you finish?" 

Attire appropriate for living here? Asgardian clothing, probably. Yuck. 

Despite it being logical to have to wear it, Tony still wants to protest, but he takes the subject change instead, and just nods. Loki nods back, slowly, standing up and leaving as promptly as he'd arrived. Tony rests his head back against the wall, letting out the breath that he hadn't realized he'd been keeping and, outside, he hears Loki talking with Fandral. 

But it's not until Tony's actually standing under the water and rubbing the herbal solution that Fandral had shown him over his hair, that the talking gets a little louder. Raised voices he's used to, especially from his parents, so he doesn't register it at first, but when he does, he pauses; one hand still in his hair as he strains to listen out to what's being said. 

He misses most but catches Thor's name at least three times before Fandral's voice quietens a little, softening in sync with Loki's. And then there's silence. Tony stays as he is, listening, and about a minute later, Loki knocks at the door. 

It's barely been enough time but Tony lets him in and follows him out where he's handed a warm cloth to wrap and dry himself with whilst Loki unfolds the new clothes for him to wear. They're not armor, thank God, and are actually as casual as what Loki's wearing - though they're the color of his family. Red. Tony fingers at the material and slowly pulls it over his head while Loki stands a little way off and watches him.

"Have you been to the stables, Tony?" Tony. Again. He almost smiles. 

"No. I've not - I only wandered around the palace really, for a bit. I was bored and - you weren't there. When I woke up." Way to sound needy, Tony. 

"Your father was leaving this morn, and my mother called for my presence there." Loki explains, unasked, "I apologize. I would have liked to have been there to have shown you the palace myself." Would he. Would he have, really. Because looking at him now, he doesn't even really seem to want to be anywhere near Tony. "I told them all that you were tired, from the wedding, to excuse you."

"Too tired to say goodbye to my own father?" Tony bites his tongue but it's too late. Bitterness always seems to seep through.

Loki raises an eyebrow, "You told me last night that you didn't care for him."

"That doesn't mean I won't want to say _goodbye_ ," Tony stares at him, "He's my dad. And I'll not see him again for a _long_ time now." Loki frowns again and it makes Tony want to scream, "Look - You don't get to make decisions like that for me, okay, especially not ones as important." Why is he getting so angry? Loki's right. He doesn't care. If Howard had wanted a goodbye, he would have come to get Tony himself and, clearly, he doesn't care either. Maybe it's the fact that Loki had made the decision without asking Tony first, without informing him or considering his feelings on the matter. 

Loki looks at him for a long while before unfolding his arms from across his chest and pressing his lips together, "Two mistakes." He says with a sigh, turning away and opening the door, "Already."

What? Tony frowns himself now. Two mistakes? Is shouting out about how you don't want to be controlled considered a 'mistake' here, or is Loki just pernickety, because he hasn't even - 

"Are you coming?" Tony starts, looking at him standing there, holding the door open and ready, "Thor and I are riding today." Loki explains, as though none of this has happened, and he's suddenly the Loki from last night again, "And we were wondering, before, if you would like to join us." It's an olive branch. A nice one, in fact, and Tony genuinely considers it. "Do you know how to ride?" And for some reason, Tony finds himself rolling his eyes at the implied innuendo. 

"You'll have to teach me." He flirts back, following on from Loki, and trying to pretend that they hadn't just been arguing. He feels a whole lot better about it but he's a feeling that, if it happens again and they try to solve it by pretending it didn't happen, they'll be creating more problems than solving them. 

But right now, maybe his second day as a married man can get just that little bit better.

.

~

.

Tony had lied before. 

He does know how to ride, he's learnt for years, but with Loki's surprisingly enthusiastic explanations about it all, he can't bring himself to say so. And anyway. Why not surprise him? So far, as he's done is sit and tremble and shout at the guy. If he's not careful, he'll lead them both down the path of unhappy marriage. And he's not even pregnant yet. 

Thor had met them in the stable and had asked how his night at been. Not ... entirely sure how to answer that, Tony had turned to Loki and had seen him looking a little disgusted by the fact his brother had even asked that. It had been a little funny, he guesses, now, especially when Thor's face had mirrored Loki's when it had finally clicked for him what he'd said, and Tony's not ashamed of laughing over it, at all. He hadn't been alone in that, either. Loki had a nice laugh. 

And somehow, Tony just knows that it's probably a little rare to hear it like that. He's noticed already, whilst standing around waiting for Loki to saddle the horse that he'd given Tony, how reserved he actually is when with his brother. Even around other Asgardians, he seems strange. Different. 

"Here," Loki gestures, holding out both arms to help Tony onto the horse. And, though he feels way too light against those muscles and that strength, he's grateful for it; mostly because the horse is huge compared to the ones that he's used to back home. 

Tony takes the reins when Loki "shows" him how to hold them right and he does his best to pretend that he's no idea what he's doing. Thor's already up and ready, watching them and waiting, and Loki's talking a little quieter - as though he doesn't want his brother to hear the tips that he's giving his husband - on how to handle a horse properly. It's mostly the opposite to everything that Thor's currently doing, so he can understand the need to hush-hush.

When the horse presses it's hooves against the ground, though, impatiently, Loki nods and moves back, "We'll be riding into the forest," He says, pointing, "And you can either follow or stay here and ride through the smaller streets below. There's - "

"Are you sure you should leave him alone, Loki?" Thor asks with a sneer, bored now, and sounding exaggeratedly so. Though it's aimed at Loki, Tony's the center of his jab, and he grips the reins tighter when Thor comes closer, doing his best not to bite to that bait, "You've barely shown him anything at all, brother, he'll need you to stay with him." Loki rolls his eyes, only letting Tony see, and he smiles when that gains him one of Tony's grins. 

And then he lets go of the horse's bit to turn toward his brother, to respond, and Tony's off. 

Wow. 

The horse is breathtakingly fast, as graceful as anything, and Tony laughs when it doesn't shy away from a low wall and instead hurtles over it. He continues to laugh as he rides, heading off into the forest that Loki had pointed to before, and his grin widens when he hears Thor begin to follow and call for him. He loves riding, he always feels so free, and now, amongst the trees and green of the bushes around out here, he feels just like he's back at the holiday ranches that he'd stayed at a few times. Under the care of his mother's old friend "Jay". 

Memories, good memories, run through his mind and he shuts his eyes against the wind, opening them only when the horse starts at a row of prickly bushes in the way, and turning it around.

"Slow down, Anthony!" Thor calls, and Loki joins him now. He's laughing himself, as well, and Tony can't help but feel his heart swell at that. Good. He's surprised him, "Anthony!"

"Call me Tony or you're getting nothing!" Tony calls back over his shoulder, ducking against a low branch and kicking the horse's stomach to urge it into a faster canter. Loki's laugh is louder now and Thor must have made a face. 

Seconds later, Tony's neck and neck with Loki and he smiles back the grin he sees. Perfect. He's doing it. He's breaking walls, getting inside, making a good impression. 

"And you've never ridden before, then?" Loki asks, sarcasm running through every syllable.

"Are you kidding?" Tony giggles, pulling at the reins until the horse begins to slow down, "I've been doing this since I was _eleven_. It's kind of a must, for rich people, back on Earth."

Loki nods, his smile dimming, and he slows his horse as well, "I see. And you, of course, as your father told me, are _very_ rich. Used to being pampered, no doubt." Tony gets the implication, but instead, shrugs.

"Heard the same about you and your brother." He says and, Loki's smile brightens just a bit before Thor catches up.

"I see now what you mean Loki," He says, shaking his head, and giving Tony a look, "He's -"

"Would appreciate it, if you didn't talk about me like I wasn't here." Tony interrupts, not wanting to hear whatever it is Loki's said about him already. Whether it be good or bad. 

Thor looks at him, as though he wants to tell Tony to hold his tongue, or to know his place, or something similar, but Loki gives him a look before he can, "He cannot - "

"He's married to _me_ now, brother." Loki says lightly, "He can say what he likes." 

Tony meets his gaze after that, and for some reason, his cheeks flush. He wishes they didn't, Thor might get the wrong idea, or even Loki might, but it's too late and it happens and wanting it to go away just makes it burn all the more over his skin. 

Thor tugs at his reins, turning his horse around, "Very well. I will meet you back home, then, Loki." He then nods at Tony, "Anth - _Tony_." Tony nods back, as formally as he can, and gives him a smile for at least calling him Tony. It's returned, so no hard feelings about Loki's jab then. 

And then - he's gone. 

Loki turns to Tony, patting the neck of his horse as he looks him over, "You are not what your father said, Tony Stark," He says, then, a little accusatory really. And Tony's not actually sure who that tone is aimed at. 

"My dad's not exactly the expert on me, myself, and I." He says, and Loki shrugs, tugging at his own reins.

"They never are." He drawls, rolling his eyes again, and the horse snorts, as though sharing the sentiment, "Come. We'll ride on more for a bit, slowly. And we'll talk."

"Talk?"

"Yes," Loki glances sideways at him and pointedly looks at the skillful way that Tony's holding himself over the horse that he's sitting on, "After all. There is so much that we do not know about each other, isn't there."

Oh, right. 

_Talk_.

.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So I'm not particularly happy with this chapter but I had to _update_ it!! i've made people wait too long D:


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm sorry for the wait everyone! I tried to make it a longer chapter as an apology!

* * *

 

Loki is unnervingly content to let Tony do all the talking.

Not that Tony really minds, he loves to talk, but sometimes he has to double check that the other guy is actually listening to him and not just daydreaming as they ride further into the forest.

It's also plainly obvious that, in letting Tony be the one who talks, Loki isn't really giving much away about himself in turn. And, other than simple directions like "We'll take a left here", he hasn't said much at all; only really nodding and glancing at Tony every so often when he falls quiet to show that he really _is_ listening to him.

So Tony tells him about school. About technology. Explains physics, electronics and circuits. He keeps his thoughts of Howard back but reveals all when it comes to Maria and Jarvis. Anything to do with Earth's government or Fury, though, he refrains from mentioning and only so much as scratches the surface when it comes to anything personal with him. He corrects Loki's assumptions about him being passive and controllable though.

He then, almost aggressively actually, reminds Loki where he wants to stand in this and is more than a little annoyed when he only gets a simple hum of acknowledgment in return.

"So." Tony breaks the brief silence that had built up after his 'marital demands', falsely cheery and trying to cling onto the victory that he'd had before. In surprising him. "What about you?"

Loki pulls at the reins, turning his horse right. Tony's follows his and he sighs, letting it go and halfheartedly tugging as well, to at least gain back a bit of control. "What about me?"

"Well, tell me something. About yourself. I mean, like you said. There's not a lot we know about each other." Just barely, Tony can see one side of Loki's mouth twitch into a hidden smile, "S'far as I know now, you know more about me than I know about you."

"Not even my family know much about me, Tony." Okay. Well, it's something at least.

"Hey, talking was _your_ idea." Tony points out, ignoring the little flutter that his stomach does when Loki calls him by nickname. He's teachable at least, then. Pliant; in a way. Maybe this could work. "And anyway. I'm not really family, am I. Well, I mean - I - " He stops, biting on the inside of his cheek and rewinding, "I'm married to you now." It'll probably get easier to say, with time. "Doesn't that mean I'm closer to you? Than, uh, than your family? Or something."

Loki stops his horse and Tony blinks, swallowing. "Um." Is that going too far, or something? He never knows where he's going wrong with this guy. Loki just hops off of the horse however, turning toward Tony, and he doesn't look mad. Maybe they're just here - wherever Loki's been leading them all this time. "Uh. Are we here?"

"Yes." Oh. Good. Loki ties his horse's reins to the branch of a tree, joining Tony's along with it. He then holds out a hand to help him down. Tony contemplates ignoring it; he's fully capable of dismounting from a horse, but then again. These ones are so much bigger when compared to the ones he's used to. On Earth. So he takes the hand. "And perhaps, in a way, you _will_ be closer. In bed, most probably." Tony gives him a look, but other than a vague show of amusement in his eyes, Loki's face is completely blank. Sly.

"Right." He's a little out-of-practice with dismounting nowadays, which is the excuse that he goes with when his knees buckle as soon as he jumps down. Loki's hand supports him though, holds him steady and then leads him around the horses and through a narrower cluster of trees. "Gee. You should have told me we were hiking, I didn't bring my designer boots." The joke's wasted on an alien, but Loki smiles anyway. Indulging him probably, or maybe even thinking he's serious.

The forest really is very beautiful though, and here on the ground, he can admire that. It's comforting; not too suffocating and not too barren/open. Loki seems to know what he's doing too, and if Tony going to have to guess at stuff instead of actually be told them, then he'd go with predicting that this is where Loki goes to be alone. The library too, he'd learnt before. From Fandral.

He almost wants to ask about that, but he also doesn't want to ruin the mood. This is the least tense he's been since this has all started.

"Here." Loki directs him forward, into a clearing, and Tony looks around as they walk. Loki's hand slips out of his to lean against a tree, to check on the horses, before slowly sliding down to sit on the grass. Tony hesitates before - slowly - joining him there. He folds his legs under him, tapping a beat on his knees and awkwardly chewing on the inside of his cheeks and he waits for what they're supposed to do next. He assumes that this is some sort of Asgardian version of a date, but as they're married now, maybe it's a sort of 'introduction' to the honeymoon stuff.

But he hasn't been on a date since he was fifteen. And that hadn't even gone _well_. What does he do? Loki had said that they'd talk, and _he_ has, but -

"It must be hard." Tony blinks, looking at him.

"Hm?"

Loki's picking at the bark of the tree that he's leaning against; idle. Subtly awkward, just as Tony is. Hm. He doesn't know how old Loki is, not in terms of being Asgardian, but looking at him and pretending that he was human, he'd guess at maybe twenty-five. Twenty-six, maybe, as well. And who knows. Asgardians might not date as often either. And from what Tony's been told about Loki - being dubbed 'insane' - he wouldn't exactly have had millions of women fawning over him.

"To be so far from your home."

"Oh." Tony shrugs, looking down, up, and then at the tree behind Loki. "I guess." It is hard. Will probably _get_ harder the longer he stays here. Or, alternatively, maybe easier. He might forget about his parents, forget about Earth.

God. What if he did.

The pressure that he'd been under, back home though, is one of the things that he's been relived of here. Odin is probably the only one who will make a deal out of this but, from what Tony's seen, he seems to be more concerned with alliances than with getting Tony knocked up. The topic of Tony's gene, on Earth, has been the talk of news-reports, chat-shows, even his fucking high-school's common room; his name has been used as a modern example of it on Wikipedia and even typing: Tony Stark 'pregnancy' onto Google-images brings up thousands of vulgar Photoshopped pictures of him and debates on whether he will, or whether he won't, who he'll end up with, if he'll scream during birth, things like that.

And, honestly, he's sick to _death_ of it.

So yeah, out of everything, that's something that he will definitely not miss.

"But, um. It's not so bad. Up here." Loki just looks at him and silence envelops over them both all over again. Tony thinks back to Earth, wondering if there is anything that he really _will_ miss, other than his mother, butler and electricity, but all that really comes to mind are the people who _obsess_ over his gene.

Ever since he had found out about it.

The carrier gene, officially dubbed FP5 in his old history textbooks, is technically a genetic mutation that is passed on through ancestry bloodlines. It's an evolutionary function, ensuring the birth of as many children as possible in a family that usually produces barren women. The Stark family had gained it during the 1600s, with the last person to have had it being a lawyer in 1878. He'd been put to death, however, by religious activists just after having had a son with his wife's brother, who had so _righteously_ concluded that he must have _chosen_ the gene and had therefore defied god in having the ability to give birth; despite being a man.

The 'gay sex' thing had been a pretty big issue too, Tony's teacher had told the class, but he'd wanted a child and couldn't with his wife because of the gene so he'd gotten kinky with his wife's brother instead. With her permission apparently, but that didn't stop the laughing that his class had started about it all after that.

He remembers this one girl in History, Amanda Pincily, shouting at a group of boys that had been imitating a conversation that made a mockery out of Herbert Stark's life.

Tony is the first in so many years to have been born with the gene. Just his luck, really. And it had been in that same class where he had found it out. He'd been studying the issue and his family and Herbert had been mentioned to have had it, which had started a little teasing, but then, when the teacher had calculated who would have it next and had declared that Tony _should_ be the next in line, the bullying had skyrocketed.

Howard's protective issues over virginity had then gotten out of hand when it had been medically confirmed, boys had avoided him like he was the plague, and even girls had been afraid that _he_ would somehow get pregnant and not the other way around; even though that that's clearly not how it works.

"Actually," Tony starts, before pausing. But then, if he doesn't start being personal now, they'll never get anywhere. And he refuses to rely on guesswork when it comes to the man that he's now married to. "I'm a little glad that I was fooled about the _reason_ I married you, truth be told."

"Fooled?" Loki asks like he's not even interested in the answer, but his eyes tell another story.

"Well yeah." Tony shrugs again, letting himself go on, "I mean, I thought this was all going to be about me getting pregnant, but - apparently it's all about alliances and shi - stuff." Loki doesn't answer and, once again, another silence builds. "Unless ... you were told something otherwise?"

"Hm?" Loki turns to him, imitating his reply from before, and Tony raises an eyebrow, restraining himself from hitting him on the shoulder as he doesn't exactly know how he'll take it. Being a prince and all. "I have not been told anything of you."

"Oh right, yeah. Because you weren't supposed to marry me in the first place." Wait. Hadn't Odin said something about crown-prince and so on? Does Loki even know about that yet? He hasn't been told _not_ to tell him, but maybe it was supposed to be obvious about whether or not he should.

He fucking hates politics.

"Perhaps."

"You're not very talkative are you." Tony then snaps, half-jokingly, frowning at him. Loki smiles in return and that just annoys him some more, "It's fair enough to let me babble _first_ , but you have to do some of it as well, you know. Tell me more about yourself." He pauses. "I mean - I say _more_ but I only really know about you from - "

"From your father." Loki finishes for him, lowering his eyes and still smiling, "And dear Fandral, of course."

Um.

"Yeah. So tell me."

"Very well." Loki stretches, his shirt rising with him which reveals a slight treasure trail. Tony discretely eyes it, telling himself that he's only curious about body hair and nothing else. He remembers brushing his fingers over it before though, while being sure that Loki was asleep and he suddenly finds himself more than a little embarrassed at that memory. He'd just been intrigued, with it being the first time that he'd been in bed with a guy, and he'd found himself exploring despite the exhaustion that had sunk in right after a night of sex. "Where would you like me to begin?"

Tony blinks, leaning forward. Eager now. "Anywhere you want." That seems to be a good enough answer, so he goes with that and smiles.

"Well." Tony gets comfortable. "Firstly, I am dead. What you see now, is merely a ghost." Are you _serious_. "I am also not Asgardian, but an elf. I snuck into Asgard years ago and no one has discovered my presence here yet but - "

"Forget it." Tony rolls his eyes, frowning and hiding his smile because he knows that it'll only encourage an idiot like Loki. He opens his mouth to retort at least, however. Maybe something about Loki's ears being elf-like _anyway_ , when a bell sounds in the near-distance and rings into the peace around them both. Loki turns his head toward it, sighs, and makes a face. Okay ...

"What is it?"

Not immediately answering, he only stands and holds out a hand for Tony to take as well, to effortlessly pull him to his feet as well. Tony takes it.  Mainly because it's polite, but also because he's a feeling that it'll end up being beneficial to him in the future if Loki thinks he always _is_ polite. And even though his lash-out at Fandral has already spoiled that, he can make amends.

"Royalty of the other realms, of those under the All-father's rule, are traditionally meant to give their respects to a new member of Asgardian family; be it a new child born or - "

"A marriage." Tony finishes, his blood growing cold from the nervousness that he never seems to get rid of around here. Well, he almost had, in this forest, but that's now broken.

Loki nods, and sighs again. "I thought we had more time." He looks back toward the path that they'd walked down from, "We begin with realms that Odin must remind are under his rule. Namely Jotenheimr."

"Jotenheimr." Tony copies, ignoring the look of amusement Loki gives him when his pronunciation is clearly way off, "That's the place that you guys went to war with, right?"

"Only recently did that war stop." Loki tells him slowly, taking him by the arm to lead him back toward the horses. Tony drags his feet a little, mainly because he resents the motion of "follow the leader", but Loki obviously doesn't even notice the extra pull.

"Recently in Earth-time, or your time?"

Loki unties his horse, looking down a moment, before hoisting Tony onto it without even asking. When Tony finally gets 100% comfortable in his presence, they're going to have a verbally strong talk about this. "I was apparently a babe during it, I've been told." Oh. Their time then.

Tony watches as Loki mounts his own horse and leads them both through the forest and back toward the castle. "So. Uh. What do _I_ have to do?" Loki looks over his shoulder, "Do I have to make small talk with these people? Because, I have to warn you, I'm not very good with authority. I barely kept it in with _Odin_."

"You do not have to speak with them, if you don't wish to."

"Really?"

"They are only here to give 'respects'. Not to directly acknowledge you." Tony scowls then, and even though it makes Loki smile again - fucking _achievement_ \- he still bristles at the implication. "You will - "

"If you tell me that I'll ' _get used to your traditions in time_ ' or some other BS, I swear to _God_ I'll - "

"I am not my brother, Tony."

"Didn't say you were. I just - wait." Tony pauses, looking at him properly now, "I - What's that supposed to mean?" Loki turns to face the front again without answering, kicking his horse a little more to spur it on faster. Tony's follows but he takes a hold of the reins himself to get some of his own control, turning and cantering forward until he's at least next to Loki and not behind. "Look. Can I just say something here? Just quickly." He's not really asking but, still, Loki glances at him. "If you're mad at me, then please just say so. We're married, okay. Officially. And while this is all going so fast for me, I'd appreciate it if we don't start the first few weeks off on the wrong foot. So if you're pissed with me - um - _vexed_ with me, then just _say_ so. I don't want to have to guess at stuff, I'm not good at that, and I don't want have to tip-toe. Not - really good at _that_ either."

He gets only a simple nod in reply so he presses, "Okay?"

The bell tolls again, though, only the once this time, and Loki ends up ignoring what he'd just said in favor of saying, "We should already be there."

That is then followed by the world's slowest trot so, clearly, they aren't going to get there anytime soon anyway. He guesses that maybe that's the point.

He goes along with it, looking over at Loki every few minutes and biting on the inside of his bottom lip as he thinks over what more he could say. Already, after everything he's seen and heard, there seems to be a bit of a bitterness between the two brothers or maybe even some rivalry - so maybe Loki _does_ know about the crown-prince issue - and while he knows he should be concerned about that, he's more annoyed about how he's getting caught up in it.

He just hopes that biting comments about each other is about as serious as it gets.

 

 

* * *

 

 

The hall is almost half empty compared to how full it had been for the wedding.

They're clearly very, very late because everyone glares at Loki when they arrive. Tony is whisked away by a servant before he can even get a proper look, though, and he barely even gets a glance at Loki either before he's being told to redress into something 'more appropriate' and pushed around by several people when he's too slow in doing it himself.

After about a minute of two strangers trying to force his arm into a sleeve that's _way_ too tight for him, don't they _get that_ , he has enough and yanks it away from them; glaring, "If I have to look good, then I can look good _without_ a broken arm."

The two men look at each other and then at a third. He leaves and about another minute later, Loki is there. Out of everything, that pisses Tony off more, because instead of talking to _him_ or explaining or negotiating anything at all, they servants had decided to get his 'husband'.

It's a non-verbal declaration of control and he hates it.

Loki doesn't even seem interested in the clothes anyway, though, and just stands there until the servants realize that they're meant to leave and rush out faster than Tony has ever seen them react to _him_ when he's anger. And Loki hadn't even said anything. Not fair.

"Is it going to be like this _everyday_?"

Loki pushes off of the wall, closing the door and shrugging slowly, "I would answer you, were I aware myself. However." He sighs, a little dramatically and Tony holds back a snort. "No one ever tells me anything, so I've no idea."

"Yeah, I know that feeling." Tony mutters quietly, tugging at the clothes until he can slide his arm in himself, going carefully in case it rips but the material is sturdier than it looks and he eventually manages it. It's uncomfortable but he can deal. For a little while at least. "You knew about the King of Yoteehym coming here, though. I didn't."

It's probably the second time that Tony has ever heard Loki laugh genuinely and it takes him about a second to realize why, "I said it wrong didn't I." Well, whatever. He's read about it before, known about it, and been told about it. He's just never said it aloud before, so sue him.

Loki rolls his shoulders, not answering and instead walking around to sit on the bed. Tony looks at the covers under him; clean and pressed now, when this morning they had been - "Let us stay here for awhile. I'm sure no one will notice our tardiness."

Tony hopes he's serious but, obviously, he's not. This whole thing is _for_ them, and he's guessing that if they don't go -

A knock at the door startles him, even though he had just been thinking of one occuring.

Loki slumps backward onto the bed; teenage-like and sulking at someone already interupting his idea. Tony raises an eyebrow, wondering not for the first time how old he really is. "What?" He calls.

Tony half expects Frigga, or maybe even Thor. He does not expect Odin. Not. At. All. Loki sits up immediately when his father steps inside, his frown melting away quickly. Tony swallows, glancing down and hoping that he's pulled his clothes on properly and that nothing is too bare for the _King of Asgard_ to see.

"Father." Loki clears his throat, glancing at Tony once as though daring him to repeat what he had just said, and Tony can't help but want to smile. He hides it quickly, but Odin isn't even looking at him. He doesn't say anything either, so similar to how Loki had been with the servants before, and after a few seconds of it, there's another sigh. "We ... were just on our way."

Tony desperately wants to laugh but he's actually a little scared in both the presence of Odin - his _father-in-law_ \- and in losing Loki's respect by getting him in trouble. He feels like he's back in high-school again, in the principle's office, and having left it around seven years ago, it's quite a stretch to think back to those times.

Odin still doesn't speak, he just walks right back out and Loki stands with another frown, looking at Tony. He makes a face, reaches out, and tugs the collar up - making Tony stumble a little to the side - before walking toward the door. "Do not speak unless asked to."

Tony doesn't move. He glares instead and Loki looks over his shoulder with a darker frown, verging on impatience. "Why not?"

"Because you are married to _me_ , and not to someone the people love." Okay then. That's not the answer he had been expecting, but Loki doesn't elaborate on it and just turns away again. And though Tony would usually question him some more - as he usually does with things like this - he refrains this once and walks silently forward instead. Loki holds out his arm and, biting back a remark, he takes it and allows himself to be led out toward the hall.

"... What else do I have to do?"

"Smile."

Ugh. "I can't. This collar is too tight, my face'll explode." That, at least, gains him a light chuckle and Loki gives him a strange look as well, obviously wondering whether he's being serious or not, but then - just before they enter the hall - he lifts his other hand and lightly brushes his fingers over Tony's clothes. Almost straight away, everything is a lot more comfortable. "Oh." Tony breathes in, and smiles, "Thanks." At least it's useful to have him around, he's going to have to learn more about that magic, about how it really works, over time though.

Tony peers past the columns on the way to the hall and he sees the people sitting with Odin talking down to them, and he holds his breath in as they near it. Loki's arm is broad against his, warm in the leather, and he subconsciously squeezes it between his; biting the inside of his bottom lip and drawing up as 'bright' a smile as he can. It would help, however, if he wasn't hating every minute of this.

As soon as they step inside, Frigga and Thor stand which alerts Odin to their presence and he turns whatever it was that he was saying into an introduction instead. All eyes turn to Tony and his smile dims until he at least looks a little humble. Loki doesn't even bother with public greetings and simply walks with him to the same seats that they had been in at the wedding.

Sitting there reminds Tony of the fear that he had had before all of this, and as he still feels that way somewhere inside, he tries hard to suppress it and focuses on keeping a straight face.

Living here really is a political nightmare, though.

On Earth, the press had watched his every move, yeah, but they had been more focused on his father than on him particularly. Here, though. Every single person stares at him; like they're just waiting for him to mess it up. Too act too _mortal_. He's part of the royal family now and everything he does will reflect on them, as Howard had told him before, so if he does anything particularly Tony-ish, he'll be in tonnes of trouble here.

At least being late isn't his fault though, but Loki's, so maybe that won't give him a bad name already.

Somewhere in him, however, he doesn't care about any of this at all. But then again, this is his _home_ now. And if he doesn't get early respect, he can already see how they will continue to treat him, and he really does _not_ want to live like that. He has to start acting like a prince, and then they will all start _looking_ at him like one.

Hopefully.

Every thought on this is vaporized immediately, however, when the King of Jotenheimr is suddenly called forward. Asgardian guards flank him as he walks and it doesn't escape Tony that he only has one of his own. He's tall, huge even, so maybe that's why, and the blue of his skin is both strange and mesmerizing to see. Tony has already seen pictures of Jotuns from Fury though, so he's not completely surprised, but it is still really amazing to see it face-to-face rather than on a blurry picture or a history book.

Because. _This_ is what he calls an Alien.

Odin nods at him and calls him 'Laufey'. King Laufey. Tony's too busy staring at the markings all over his body, however, that he almost misses his own name when called as well. Thankfully Loki's arm - that's still connected to his - jerks to pull him to attention. He blinks, turning to meet Laufey's eyes and, at a loss at first, he nods.

"Say his name as greeting." Loki murmurs to him, and Tony swallows, clearing his throat.

God, please say it right. "Laufey." Loki's arm jerks again but this time, it's because he's holding back laughter. "Um. King Laufey." Tony amends quickly, hating the seeming immaturity of his arranged-husband.

Laufey nods back slowly, clearly ignoring the error, though a spark of displeasure in his red eyes - _red_ , wow - tells Tony that it's isn't completely forgiven. He remembers from Fury that the Frost-Giants are apparently ruthless. Should he be scared?

"Prince Anthony Stark. Of Midgard."

Tony keeps his nickname back, no one's ever going to get it right anyway. Except Loki, apparently. Everyone's looking at him though, like he's supposed to say something else, but Loki doesn't offer any help and no one has told him anything about this. What does he do? _Improvise_? "Um. Thank you. You must have come a long way to - " He thinks back to what Loki had said, "To see the newest member of Asgard's royal family." Thanking is always best; senators like that.

For a second, Laufey looks a little confused, before he then smiles. It's half normal, half frightening to see. "Yes. The travel to the bi-frost is long, but this is tradition. I must."

"Well. Kudos to you for keeping it up, then. I mean. Yeah." Smooth. Loki clears his throat but Tony's mouth is already open so he just continues, "If it was hard, then I can really appreciate the gesture." Nice save.

"Indeed so."

Loki clears his throat again, and Tony turns to him, "You got a cough?" Loki's eyes lower in amusement and he's smiling softly. At what Tony has no idea, that is - until he sees the look on Odin's face. Ah. He'd almost forgotten about the war thing, is he not supposed to be nice to other Kings?

Laufey clearly senses the change as well, and steps back, taking from the other Jotun a box that he places on the table. "For marriage luck. In Jotenheimr, when two join together, it is customary to create something of beauty for the bedchamber." Tony smiles, more curiously than anything, and reaches for the box to see what it is. Loki's hand stops him however, engulfing his and keeping it down and though his first instinct is to yank it away, he keeps it back and remembers all of the eyes that are on him.

"Thank you." Loki tells him formally, his voice low; respectful. Tony just smiles, feeling a little plastic really, but when Loki's finger trails over the ring that he had magically made for him before, he relaxes a bit as he understands that it's not to shut him up but to stop him making a mistake. Which is nice. And he can always open the box later.

See. He's learning.

Laufey bows his head once, steps back again and turns to Odin. And just like that, the mini ceremony is over. Odin continues on from the speech that he had left before, while Laufey just stands there, and then he's led back out to the bi-frost. Another official comes in, presents a gift, and Tony makes small-talk as best he can until they are then directed to leave. The rulers of Vanaheim, Álfheimr and Nidavellir are the only ones really, and though Tony knows that there are nine realms, he isn't too surprised.

Publicly, it would be said that not all of them are safe enough to be brought to Asgard. The cynical side of it though, is that not all of them are under 'Odin's rule'. Tony tries not to focus on that and just thinks really about ' _ooh, more presents_.' He still hasn't opened the others, though, but then again, he'd had other things on his mind anyway.

Speaking of.

Loki is completely silent beside him, only speaking at odd times but, even though introducing Tony is supposed to be the purpose of this, Odin is more the main speaker and event anyway so it gets pretty boring for Tony too.

When everyone else is told to leave afterward, however, Loki still doesn't move and - neither do the rest of them. Great. They're supposed to be last. He sighs and stops himself from slouching just in time.

Fandral passes the table on the way out, giving Loki an unreadable look that is coolly ignored. Tony glances between the two, frowns, and then looks down at the box that Laufey had placed before him. It's carved from a dark-type of ice, solid and clearly altered so that it won't melt. It's beautiful. But - from how it's practically sizzling over the table - probably very cold to the touch. Maybe that was why Loki had stopped him from touching it before.

 

 

* * *

 

 

"What's your favorite color?" Tony asks Loki suddenly, the first thing coming to mind when the silence gets to be too much for him, and Loki turns to look at him; raising an eyebrow. "Green?"

"Green is the color of my battle attire."

"And your shirt right now."

"Mm." Loki glances down at himself, at the box that Tony is still looking at, and then at Odin. The hall is completely empty now but Thor and Odin are discussing something together and none of them are apparently supposed to leave yet. "Your point?"

"How old are you?"

Odin turns to look at Loki once then, raising a finger on the hand that rests on his left knee. Loki shifts in his seat at that and, after the finger lowers, stands. Tony is made to follow with the arm that Loki has in his grip, "Is this your way of learning more about me?" They walk out of the hall together and, Sif - the woman with the dark hair and brisk attitude - tries to call after Loki but she's as ignored as Fandral had been before. Tony looks back at her with a smile and it's returned at least, but only in a way that makes him feel she's just indulging him. He's going to have to start asserting himself around here some more, if he wants to be acknowledged as more than just another part of _Loki_.

"It's my way of battling an awkward silence." Tony lies automatically, trying to joke, and trying to hide some of his pride but he realizes too late that Loki is apparently good at sensing lies. Howard had mentioned that Fury had hated that, before. "You know about me." He says then, "It's only fair that I know some too. I want to be comfortable when living here."

"I understand that. But there is little I will say in the palace."

"Why? You got a lot of secrets?" Loki pauses in walking, for a second, before continuing. "Okay. That ... was obviously the wrong thing to say. You didn't say anything in the forest, either though."

"I would have, did the bell not ring so soon." He'd had plenty of time before that. Liar.

"Look, what's the issue here? We're _married_ , you can - "

"And I thought that _that_ would be the issue, for you." Loki murmurs, still not really looking at him. Tony blinks, tilting his head up to try and meet his eyes but he doesn't manage and almost trips when walking so he stops.

But - "I told you that me not wanting to get married wasn't personal." He says then, quietly.

"I'm aware." And now he's being cold, what is _with_ this guy?

Tony stops walking completely but Loki doesn't even realize for a moment, so he goes one step further and yanks his arm back. _Then_. Loki stops.

"I'm laying conditions." He declares.

Loki slowly pivots on the heels of his boots, turning to face him fully, "Really. Right here, in the middle of the hallway?"

Tony grits his teeth and ignores the servant who walks past and gives them both a startled look. "If I have to. I mean you're actually properly listening to me right now, so yeah. Maybe I will."

"Listening - ?"

"Look, I don't _get_ you." Tony starts off, and it's not a condition but he has to get this out. He's not good at bottling emotion. "You act nice, understanding, and then flip it all right around. You get a temper, blame me for something, and then take me out horse-riding. You say we're going to talk, patiently listen to all of _my_ shit, and then clam up when it comes you. And when I ask you _why_ , you twist it to make it sound like you're upset with me. Is this what it's going to be like _living_ with you?" Another servant appears round the corner, but this time, not as though he's actually doing something but more to spy on what's going on. Two more come to stand beside him and Tony both inwardly celebrates the attention and panics at it. "Because if it is, or even if it's _not_ , I'm laying down conditions for this because I've been pushed around through this process too many times to not want a little bit of control back."

Three more servants come. One of them tries to usher the others away before Loki notices. He isn't even looking however and is just looking at Tony with the blankest of faces that he's ever had since Tony's meeting of him.

"So. If you're going to be reasonable and listen to my conditions, I'll tell them to you in private. In the - bedroom. If you aren't going to be, then ... well. Married life isn't going to be pleasant for either of us, then is it."

The servants bustle out of his way when he storms past and he prays that he's heading in the right way or this is just really humiliating. He doesn't get far, however, when he bashes right into the two servants that had tried to dress him before. They're carrying the gifts and opening the door to his room just as he gets there.

Good. He's come the right way then.

"My Lord." One of them greets him but he's too angry to be polite and just walks in after them, ignoring them as they lay the presents down and only looking up when they leave. God. He exhales, running a hand down his face and tugging at his hair hard.

This is already hell and it's barely been a week. He needs to do something about this fast, or - 

One of the gifts falls from the pile and he glances at them in the corner. Then, deciding to take his anger out on opening them, he stands with a huff and walks toward them. God knows he needs a distraction.

Despite the many people that had come up to him at the wedding, there are only about a dozen real gifts whereas most of the other things had mainly been food or just words of luck and so on. But there's plenty to distract himself with, so he doesn't care.

Ripping apart the thread that keeps a bound book together, he skims over it and finds it to be an old-wives tale on a pregnant women undergoing serious life struggles in a darker period of time in Asgard. He throws it aside in disgust and looks for something better.

Most of the presents are really things for the bedroom and that does anything _but_ make him feel okay with this. There are several different fur pelts to lay over the blankets, engraved goblets, carved chests for Tony to put his personal affects inside, and things like that.

It's only when he gets to Fandral's gift that he actually pauses; his hand skimming over the wood of the chest as he contemplates looking inside it. Loki still hasn't come to the room though - being unreasonable, clearly, the fucking bastard - so, really, why should Tony be reasonable in turn? If Fandral and Loki are on such bad terms with each other than maybe a good way of getting revenge on him being such a dick is to _like_ the present given to him by someone he hates.

With that in mind, he unlocks the chest immediately and flips it open with some effort. It strains his shoulders but he manages and blinks at the contents; puzzled for a second before he realizes what it all is.

Inside of the chest are dozens and dozens of scrolls, books and tablets. He stares, reaching out for the scroll at the top of the pile and reading over it quickly. It's history. History on the war, on Asgard, Midgard, Jotenheimr and Odin. It's what Tony had been planning to look for himself, while he was here.

Wow. He doesn't even have to pretend he likes it, this is - he smiles and puts it all away carefully.

He wants to read it all now but knows that it'll take time and he wants to be able to focus. He's too angry right now for reading so, sadly putting them away, he shoves the chest next to his own still-unpacked bags and turns toward Laufey's box. Hm.

The door opens when he looks over it but he doesn't even notice it really.

Carefully, he taps the corner of the box with his forefinger and hisses at the chill, rubbing the tip balefully and sucking on it to warm it back up. Grabbing one of the fur pelts instead then, he uses it to try and find it's catch when -

His hand is grabbed tight and pulled away from it. It hurts. " _Ow_ \- !"

For a second, Tony thinks that it's somehow Laufey and that touching the box had summoned him in here or something, but then he realizes that it's Loki. And he's openly glaring now. Wonderful.

"Whatever he gave you is being disposed of." He states bluntly, gesturing to the box. Tony swallows and the grip on his hand is loosened but he doesn't let go of the box; glaring back at him and using his other hand to pick to wrap it with fur and hold it against his chest.

"No."

Loki rolls his eyes, "Tony. Whatever petty desire you have to anger me right now, however righteous it may be, don't use this. Laufey is a frost Giant and his gift may be deadly to - " Anger clouds Tony at the flippant way his emotions are spoken of, however, and he flips open the box before Loki can even finish his warning. Loki's face melts from being only a simple glare, to complete outrage. "I am _merely_ \- "

Once open, the box begins to unravel itself, the ice actually melting now and falling into a pile of slush at their feet. Tony steps back, looking down and Loki stops speaking entirely to stare at the fur. From within the box, a single sculpture of a flower is revealed as everything melts around it. It looks like it's made of glass though it's likely not and it's not like any flower that Tony's ever seen. One that grows in Jotenheimr maybe, then - if they even have any - because he hadn't seen it in the garden around here either.

"Wow." Tony mutters, sarcastically. "That was _so_ deadly." Loki looks almost struck dumb at Tony's sudden rudeness but Tony only turns to put the sculpture onto the table beside his bags. It's not cold to touch which is nice and it's base immediately spreads until it can stand on it's own without falling. Loki's face is cold now but he says nothing and stands there for a long while before finally turning away; kicking aside another fur pelt on the floor to head for the bed.

Tony bites the inside of his cheek and holds onto his anger. It's helping with repelling his regret.

Loki sits on the edge of the bed, his eyes dark and furious, and he folds his arms across his chest as he glares over at Tony, "What is it you want, exactly, Tony?"

Tony looks at him, tilting his head to one side. "From you?"

"From this all."

For you to stop being passive-aggressive?

"I want to go home. To Earth." Tony says, his anger ebbing into something else now and he tries to cling to it desperately, "I want to not be married. Not be _here_." Loki looks down with a sigh, closing his eyes for a second, "But as I _can't_ have that stuff, then there's not much else that I do want, besides just a little respect and acknowledgment."

"I have not - "

"From everyone. Not just you."

Loki scoffs, then, "Yes, well. I wish you luck with that." Tony frowns, but before he can snap at the lack of faith, Loki raises a hand and lifts it as though he's going to 'beckon' Tony, before thankfully deciding against it and dropping it beside him to pat on the bed, "Come here." Tony doesn't move. "Please."

Is that guilt in his chest, at Loki's tone, or is it just the come-down from his anger?

Slowly, Tony pushes off of the table and walks toward him. The sculpture that Laufey had given shines off of the gold on his clothes and reflects patterns on the wall and he looks at those instead of Loki. He sits on the bed, inches from Loki's hand, and looks at him, "Okay." He starts, pauses, and then continues, "I know that you don't want to be married as well." Leaning back on his hands, Loki doesn't reply but that says enough, "And I'm sorry that you've been dragged into this, just like I have, but. But don't take it out on _me_. Okay? It's not _my_ fault. It's our fathers' fault. And I -"

"I didn't realize I gave you that impression." Loki says to him, curtly.

"Well you're always -"

"I _know_ who is to blame for this, just as I know what this marriage will gain Asgard, and what it will gain your family. What I do _not_ know, however, is why you behave as though I am some sort of enemy. As though this is all my fault." 

Tony starts. "I don't - "

"You say that I seem to blame you for this, then explain to me why _you_ seem to blame _me_."

Tony blinks, looking at him though not really looking all at the same time. He hasn't been, has he. Is this just Loki twisting something again?

But then again. He thinks back to how he's been behaving since the wedding. To the things that he's been saying and the way he's been demanding things and telling Loki about how he wants this marriage to go. He's been trying to assert control, he knows, but to think of it in terms of how Loki is telling him now, it sounds a lot like him being angry at Loki for being married to him.

 _Oh_.

"I ... um. I didn't realize I gave you that impression." Tony parrots, looking down. "I just - " He grits his teeth and sighs, "I just didn't want to be treated like - " He stops, feeling stupid. "Like - "

Loki leans further forward, "Like what?"

Tony blinks twice, meeting his gaze. He doesn't look angry anymore, though. He just looks tired. Apologetic even. That helps. "Like a trophy." He admits. "A thing, and not a person."

Loki lowers his lashes and leans a little more forward, "If you wish for me to ignore everything that your father said of you to me, then you must ignore anything you have heard of me as well. We must start this on neutral terms."

Neutral. That sounds good.

Tony takes a breath, nodding. "Neutral. Yeah." He clears his throat. "Okay." Loki smiles now, brief and small, but it's there. Tony returns it as genuinely as he can. "I'm sorry." He then apologizes, quickly, before adding, "But I still want to know more about you."

Loki's smile returns, wider this time, "Of course you do." He then shifts back over the bed, glancing at Laufey's sculpture in annoyance when it shines light right over his face, before settling over the pillows and pulling his shirt off to relax. Tony finds his eyes drawn to his chest before he meets his eyes again. "But first, you said that you had ' _conditions_ '?"

Tony's lips part slightly as he struggles to find something to say, too easily distracted by bare skin sometimes - he's so immature - but the smugness radiating from Loki irritates him enough that he tries to copy with the half-nakedness anyway and fumbles with his clothes.

The effect is ruined however, when he can't even get them off.

Loki clearly wants to laugh but doesn't and unclasps Tony for him; smiling at him softly enough that it makes Tony want to apologize again. But he doesn't. Because Loki hasn't himself yet, and _he_ was a dick too. The guy doesn't look the type to _say_ 'sorry', though, but - apparently - he can show it instead. Because no sooner has the thought even left Tony's mind, Loki takes one of his hands and brings it to his lips.

Just like Thor had before but with Loki, it actually makes Tony's stomach flip-flop inside. Mainly because it isn't as formal and detached as his brother's had been, but also because Loki looks up from under his lashes as he does it and his eyes deliver a wordless apology, which gives Tony so much hope for the future.

Now if he can stop him from being so passive-aggressive sometimes, and so mood-swingy, he can get comfortable enough around him. And then there's the topic of his pregnancy. He has to be comfortable with Loki before then, he has to be.

He doesn't think he can handle it if he isn't.

The shirt is slipped when Loki lets go of his hand and moves back, and Tony sits on one of the pelts that he tugs onto the bed. Loki leans back again, gesturing with a hand that Tony begin.

Right. Okay.

Condition number one.

"My Mom is allowed to visit me with my father."

Loki's eyebrows raise and he actually looks a little uncomfortable. "Ah." Is all he says and Tony already knows this isn't going to go well.

He can still try though, right?

 

* * *

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I don't think I'll ever be happy with chapters from this fic D: 
> 
> But I hope you enjoyed regardless!


	6. Chapter 6

* * *

 

"But I don't see _why_ she can't come, though. I mean, if my dad's allowed to visit sometimes then why can't - "

"Your _father_ is only able to come because of his stance in our alliance. He joins your Nick Fury to meet with Odin to discuss it, _only_. Your mother is not a part of this, therefore Odin stated that she cannot be allowed stay."

Stupid paranoid _Majesty._ "Yeah but you're Odin's _son_. Can't you - I don't know - _talk_ to him about it?" Loki looks at him, chewing on the inside of his cheek. The lines on his cheeks are a lot smoother now that the permanent-frown that he always seems to have has disappeared. But then it only reappears at the mere mention of Odin, all over again. Okay, fine. Different tactic, then. Tony bites his lip, looking back at him as imploringly as he can, "Loki. She's my _mom_. I needed her at the wedding and she wasn't here for me, so the _least_ the King can do is let her visit along with my dad. Just sometimes, that's all I'm asking."

For a second, it was like it's actually going to work, before Loki then sighs, "It is very rare for mortals to be allowed entry to Asgard, Tony." He murmurs, letting his teeth release his cheeks only to chew on the tip of his thumb instead. Bad habit. "Even allowing Fury entrance so oftenly was - "

"Okay, how about we think of it like this?" Tony interrupts, aware that he's promised to treat Loki neutrally, so he holds in his temper and doesn't say anything about 'rule-following' and cowering. Even though he seriously wants to. " _I_ live on Asgard now, right? My home, Earth, is so far away now that it's like it's not even real anymore and I'm away from every single person that I've _ever_ known. I grew up there, Loki. It's my _home_ , do you get that?"

Loki leans back, coolly raising an eyebrow at the patronizing, "Yes."

"Good." Aware of how snappy he sounds, Tony gentles his voice, "So, if _I_ had to uproot my life for your alliance to marry a 'son of Odin', then the least _Odin_ can do in return is let me have at least the one visitor from Earth. Right?"

"To me, it sounds acceptable." Loki tells him, sounding a little impatient, "But it is not _me_ that makes our laws. If you want this, then _Odin_ is who you'll have to speak to. Not me." Um. Tony freezes up at the thought of even _thinking_ of doing that and, as he probably notices it, Loki sighs in resignation, "Or I can. For you." He mutters, sounding _really_ impatient now.

But still, that's actually kinda nice. "Would you?" Tony leans closer, rising up onto his knees on the bed and pressing his lips together hopefully, "You'd do that? Really?" Loki smiles then - just a little - at the enthusiasm that he's showing and he nods once, a little wary when Tony suddenly lurches forward; about to thank him with a shout before - "If you're _lying_ to me I'll do something really freaky to you in your sleep." He decides to warn him, instead, and _that_   - at least -  seems to be what makes Loki laugh.

"I'm shaking with fear." He drawls, turning to stand up, "But if you really do _not_ believe me, then I can always just do it now."

Tony blinks, "What - now? As in, _now_ now?"

"Why not? He should not be too busy as this hour. But I warn you, he doesn't usually listen to _me_ either. _Thor_ is more likely but it will take a lot more convincing and talking for him to even _understand_ what you are saying."

Tony smiles, "You really don't like your brother, do you."

Loki shrugs, "It's not a matter of ' _liking_ '. We're simply too different to get along with each other. And yet he _constantly_ tries to." That brings on a snort. "Well, glad that amuses you."

"It's just weird, really." Tony explains with a grin, "I've always imagined Princes to be all regal and shit." He imitates his assumption, sitting up straighter with his hands in his lap and a look of exaggerated smugness on his face, lowering his voice until it sounds arrogant enough, "Saying things like 'Brothers do not fight, in royalty.' Or something."

"Hm." Loki lifts his shirt without really answering and pulls it back on fast enough that it ruffles his hair. Tony stands himself as well then, kicking open his suitcase to pull out a formal-looking-enough T-shirt and tugging it on quickly. He pauses, however, when he feels Loki's odd look over his back, and he turns, raising an eyebrow, "What?"

"You cannot wear _that_."

Tony looks down at himself with a frown, "Why not? It's doesn't say anything _inappropriate_. I mean, not like my other - "

"It's not from our culture." Loki speaks over him, as though he'd been expecting this and already has an answer planned out; which - to be quite honest - is more than a little off-putting. " _That_ makes it inappropriate in itself."

Right. "Well tough. Everyone knows I'm from Earth, and I'm not going to suddenly change overnight." He expects an argument but, despite the fact that it's _Loki_ who's the one telling him this in the first place, he looks slightly pleased at the answer he gets. He really needs to get a hold of where he stands in this because it's getting to be exhausting keeping up with his expressions, "And anyway. Judging from the look that you just gave me, you don't mind it either, so what's the problem?" Walking past him to reach the door, Tony gives him a half-smile, "Besides. That's condition number two. I don't _want_ nor _need_ permission to do _anything._ Not even from you."

"Of course not." Loki parries with a smirk, turning to open the door for him. "And not even from Odin, too?" 

Tony pauses. "Okay. Well, he _is_ the King so I guess I'll have to make some exceptions, but - there's a bunch of things that I _will_ say 'no' to, no matter who says them. Including him."

"How flexible of you." Is all Loki says to that, waiting for Tony to step out before following him,

"Don't get cute."

A sort of hidden smile blooms over Loki's face then but it's gone before it even rises completely, "And condition number three?" He asks to disguise it.

Tony blinks. "Um." What is it again? "Oh, I refuse to be kept out of the dark of anything that's going on." Jeez. Long legs, long strides. Yeah, it's going to be hard to keep up with everyone here. But at least now he's not in a robe or a suit and just in some regular jeans and shirt. He can run too, if he doesn't manage to slip and fall over. Humiliation aside, marble _hurts_.

"I can hold to that for my own matters, but others cannot be said."

"Why not?"

"Because half the time, even _I_ am not told of them either." Okay, fair enough. But there has to be more to it than just that right? Because if Tony were Loki, there'd be no way in hell that he'd be satisfied with living like that. But hey, who's he to judge? Look at where _he_ is now. And anyway, maybe he _isn't_ so satisfied. He's barely been here for a week yet, he doesn't know anything about anything.

Speaking of. "Where's the library in this place?"

Loki looks at him, mockingly confused, "Is this a condition?"

"Funny. And no, it's a question. We can do conditions as I think of them." He tilts his head up to smiles at him, sweetly, "I'll even make you a _list_. So you can remember."

The corner of Loki's mouth twitches upward before he dryly murmurs, "Kind of you."

"I know right. You can make _me_ one too, if you want." That earns him a peculiar glance, "I mean. You were forced into this as well, right? So if _I_ get conditions, and if we're starting this on neutral terms, then you should get some too. To - you know. Get the equality going in the relationship." And there we go. Sex Education coming out, even when he'd barely focused in that class at all. It'd always tended to be the one class where _all_ the comments on his biology had been called out on and mocked, so most of it is pretty much tuned out of his brain now. 

What's a lot weirder, though, is the fact that he's just called their marriage a 'relationship'. It sounds off coming out of his mouth like that - he's always thought of having an actual partner for a while before _then_ getting married [if he ever even _did,_ he's very skittish on the subject] and then having _that_ being seen as a relationship of his.

So does this, what they are now, even _count_?

He should really have done a little more research into arranged marriages, now that he thinks about it, and a lot less on Thor. Which - _don't think about it, you'll only get angry_ \- is completely _pointless_ now. Screw second impressions, he really does hate Odin.

And that's a little bad too, because he's kinda off to see the wizard right now, about getting visiting rights for his mother, so _yeesh_. Best to stay calm, and polite too, if he can manage it.

"What if a condition of mine bars against one of your own?" Loki breaks into his thoughts as he asks him, actually sounding quite interested too which hands him another point. Okay. So maybe Tony should actually start ranking and tallying these to keep count. _Or_ maybe he should stop thinking of Loki as a puppy doing tricks to gain his inner approval.

"Then ... " He pauses, thinking about it himself, and for some reason he backtracks toward a certain solid memory of his parents having a counseling session about their relationship; Aunt Peggy had called for it after Howard had thrown a glass of scotch through the window, aiming for Tony's head. The advice, he remembers that the woman had given a then-sober Howard and Maria, was for them to - "Then we'll discuss it together, afterward, and come to our own compromise where both of us are happy." He recites, flushing a little when he realizes just how robotic he'd actually sounded.

Loki doesn't comment though, and only accepts that as a good enough answer. Tony still feels the need to continue though, "But it doesn't really matter right now. We'll come to that, if we come to it." He puts a hand up in warning, " _But_. If your conditions are things like 'must obey me' or shit like that, then you can forget it."

"What happened to being neutral?"

Tony shrugs, "This is me being neutral."

Instead of insulting him, as he actually really thought it would, Loki just laughs softly to himself and shakes his head, looking at Tony like he can't quite make up his mind about what to say. He doesn't get the chance to anyway, though, because the next room they come to is the hall and they have to come to an abrupt halt before it's doors.

"I request an audience with my father." Loki tells the guards standing there and, without even answering, one of them just steps into the hall to relay that to the man himself, "Tell him that Prince Anthony is also here." He adds quickly before he leaves, and Tony glances at him.

"Why is it 'Anthony' when I'm being royal?"

"Tony does not sound regal enough." Is Loki's prim answer.

"Oh." Well that was blunt.

 

 

_**~** _

* * *

 

_**~** _

 

If there's ever going to be, _somewhere_ in the nine realms, a huge tower made up of paranoia and suspicion and _pernickety_ natures - with each section having maybe a few people each - then the tip-top crown of it would have a little throne made of _ego_ where Odin can sit his stupid fat ass on top and look down at everyone else like they're useless.

Tony grits his teeth. Clearly, it's a little apt to think that he's pissed right now. But come on, what is the guys _problem?_ He doesn't even know what the answer will be yet but he's already so angry with him.

Back outside of the hall, Odin had accepted Loki in to discuss Tony's mother. _Only_ Loki, though. Tony hadn't been allowed inside at all, not even to discuss his own freaking Mother. And why? He doesn't know, he still hadn't even been given a reason for it.

Being sent away like that, he'd at least controlled himself in front of Loki and in front of the guards but as soon as he'd been led by a servant to the library - to 'entertain himself' - he'd let loose of everything he had in a cathartic set of rage. That same rage, though, had only really been him manically ranting to himself, glaring at the pictures on the walls, and considering marching right back in there and _demanding_ that he be there to discuss the matter. 

But, then. Once he'd calmed down, he'd realised that he's kind of been overreacting a hell of a lot, so since then he's then just been looking around each part of the library to ' _distract'_ himself. It really is one of the biggest rooms that he's ever been inside though, so - _great_ distraction.

He spins in a circle as he thinks, watching as the colors of every book blur into one. Each area that he sees around him has stacks and _stacks_ of miniature libraries with numerous shelves of their own and with each shelf full to the _brim_ with books.

Jarvis would be so jealous.

Tony walks along and down all of the walls as he stares and hums to himself, skimming his hand down each of the covers and panels and trailing his feet over the rugged floor.

It doesn't take long for boredom to take over, though, and eventually he just stumbles to one of the seats and slumps down into it; pulling toward him a novel-sized scroll and opening it with a sigh. The pictures over it move across the page on their own, defying all the laws of science that he knows which only irritates him further, making him fling it shut and toss it to the ground. It's then that he remembers why he actually wanted to come down to the library before all this, anyway.

 _Jotenheimr_.

Right. Peeking into the history section, he wonders if there even _is_ anything on the War with the Jotuns yet, and an elderly man weaving in the corner informs him that, no, there actually isn't right now.

Those 'tales' are still being written, apparently. 

But seriously, though. How long do these people need?

It's actually probably just a lie anyway and _likely_ a not-so-subtle way of telling Tony that it's none of his business. Well. It's not going to stop him from _looking,_ so better luck next ti -

The doors open with echoing groans behind him, and he spins around in just under a second, his mouth opening immediately to ask about how the meeting had gone before he sees Loki's face. Pausing, he takes a step back and sighs, " ... he said no, then?"

Loki looks at him, glancing down at the scroll that he'd dropped off of his lap before, as though it's a lot more important than what he'd been away from, "I apologize." He then says, vaguely, "You should have been there."

"Doesn't matter." Tony appeases, even though it does, but right now he just wants to know. He _needs_ to know if his mom can come or not. "Loki? _Did_ he say no, then?" After a short pause, all it then takes is just a jerk of a nod, before Tony's shoulders droop and he sits back in the chair with a sigh, "Did he say _why_?"

"The same reasons I said to you before." Loki tells him, walking toward him only to pick the scroll up and place it upon the pile it's presumably from, "Of all things, visitors to Asgard are always under the strictest of rules. Only if they are a benefit, can they be allowed in."

"My Mom's a designer." Tony offers, weakly, "She's made almost the same amount of money that my dad has, with her fashion labels, and she's graduated in engineering too. She can be ... useful." It leaves a bad taste in his mouth, talking about her like that, but if it's benefit Odin wants then - "She could, I don't know, help with building stuff? Give ideas for better structure and even make some clothes for your aristocrats or something. Just - it can be her reason for being allowed to come, can't it?"

"There is a royal group of seamstresses already that my father approves of and no mortal would ever be given responsibility over our buildings. I'm sorry."

Are you? Tony wants to say, bitterly, but he holds himself back. This isn't Loki's fault. He's just being bluntly realistic is all, and though it's irritating, it's not as bad as Odin's answer.

He starts, though, when a hand reaches just in his vision to pull him up. He takes it after a second's hesitation and Loki leads him to the door, "Don't worry so much. Come. Let's walk for a while; clear your head. The library is too hot this time of day, anyhow, to stay cooped inside it."

"Mm." Tony doesn't answer but he doesn't take his hand back either, and just follows Loki out. Autopilot seems helpful right now, anyway. They pass a few servants on the way outside, causing them all to stop with what they're doing, to bow, which is actually a little uplifting for him. To have that kind of respect.

Especially when he sees that they do it to _both_ Loki and him.

Outside, it's both sunny and a little breezy, which is apparently the perfect weather to train or something because wherever they walk, there's always _someone_ smashing the shit out of their sparring partner. It's all very impressive and all, but gets pretty boring quickly too. Luckily, Loki doesn't seem to be all that into it either and barely acknowledges his brother's invitation to join in; walking on past until they're far away enough to only hear the clangs of the swords against shields.

"Is that what _everyone_ does every day?" Tony asks as they continue to walk on.

"Thor and his band, yes, I suppose. And any of his other delusional _followers_." Okay then. "Others, however, have better things to do."

"Like what?" His question isn't exactly answered by Loki, though, and is instead given to him on a platter of shouts, calls and the smell of food and _leather_. They shop, then, apparently.

"Ooh." It's literally _exactly_ like the medieval market places that he's always seen in movies, down to the strange hats and wooden stands too. Everything is usual, except for the way that some of the merchandise acts a little less human-made than it would on Earth - with some floating in the air or forming together itself as it's maker just supervises. "Wow." He stares at a glowing disk on a stand, watching as it spins toward the fingers of the young boys playing with it without them even touching it, before they're then told to leave by it's angry creator.

Any other stands only really have clothes on them after that, hanging up from ropes to display their size and beauty. Tony looks over them once before diverting his attention back toward other things, "Is that - ?" He pauses, knowing what it is he actually _wants_ to say but knowing it won't be understood, so he changes tact at the last second. Even though he kinda hates the word itself. "Magic?"

"In a way." Loki answers. "Soft Magic, for most of these things. Harmless and _easily_ conjured."

"Right." Tony glances back at the disk, watching as it now halts spinning until it's maker taps just above it to start it up again. "Okay, I'll admit. _That's_ cool." Loki follows his gaze, a little unimpressed so Tony tries to make himself clear, "Back home, I had this machine that I'd made in school. And it was _so_ close to achieving touch-phase activation, but no matter what I did, I couldn't get it to work. And I definitely couldn't ever make it as smooth as _that_." He points then, making it clear which object it is he's talking about, but as soon as he does the maker gives a start of fear and stands to attention. "Oh, no. No, it's okay, I was just pointing to your disk-thing, not you." The man continues to stare at him, however, swallowing so obviously that Tony wonders how many times the people here have had bad turns with royalty. A lot, judging from the sudden silence of the market. "Really, it's cool. Uh. Carry on?" When the man still doesn't move and even makes to _apologize_ , Tony pulls his hand from Loki's and takes a step toward his stand, "Look, I was just talking about how much I liked it. It's fascinating, compared to things on Earth, is all."

Looking at him for a bit longer, as though assessing him almost, the man nods once in answer, "Thank you, Prince Anthony. It is merely a trinket, though. Here." He picks it up, handing it over to Tony, just like that. "For you."

"Oh, uh - thanks." Tony blinks, taking it immediately, before turning to Loki in surprise. "Uh. How do I pay?"

"With your face." Loki answers. "You are part of the royal family now, so only recognition is needed. No other payment is necessary." Hm. Sounds pretty useful. But; Tony looks down at the disk. It's heavier than he thought it would be, and heavy usually means expensive. Which means that he's taking a lot of money from this guy without actually giving anything in return.

With a sigh, he hands the disk over to Loki, waiting for _ages_ for the God to even realise what Tony's doing before finally taking it from him with a frown. He doesn't actually have much on him right now, anyway, besides what accessories he'd brought with his clothes. The mini-watch that Howard had given to him for his sixteenth is clasped around his wrist, and as it doesn't really hold any sentimental value at all, he un-clips it quickly and places it on the stand. "Here. It's made from silver and it shows the time. It's on Earth time, though, but - you could change that right?"

"I - yes. I could." The man answers, picking the watch up from the stand with awe. "Thank you, Sire."

"You're welcome." Tony grins, taking the disk back from Loki and examining it as they start to walk again, "So. What was that about?"

"The silence or the worker?"

"Both."

Loki puts a hand on the small of his back when a group of children run past, turning him around easily until they face the palace again, "You are a new being of importance to them all. They know nothing of you yet to make a judgement on either your temper, kindness or willingness to punish."

Temper, Kindness, and what? Tony stops, looking at him. "Willingness to punish?"

"Sometimes discipline is needed." Loki answers with an odd look on his face, meeting Tony's gaze now instead of looking everywhere around instead, "But don't worry. News does travel fast here so after today, you will most likely be labeled as kind and not cruel."

Um. "So I basically just made my royal 'face' right now, then."

Loki smiles, "Regretting it?"

" _No_." He says quickly, a little too defensively, "Just - will this mean that I'll be seen as a push-over now from now on, then?" Because if so,  _shit._ How the hell is he meant to convince Odin of some things, if the citizens of his own kingdom think Tony's too soft?

"Perhaps." Loki murmurs, not making him feel better in the least, "But you have barely been here a week and have already shown numerous sides to yourself. No one here is too quick to judge. Well. No one aside from maybe Sif."

"Who?"

"The warrior woman who trains with Thor. You saw her on the way here." He did? Tony frowns, thinking back. Was she the same dark-haired woman that keeps calling after him, then? Huh. Maybe he should actually stop one time and actually hear whatever it is that she has to say. But she always seems to do it with he's with Loki and -

Hang on. He's never actually _not_ been with Loki at all, since being married, has he. Barring his time in the baths.

Yikes.

He grimaces, looking back down at the disk to hide it. It's not even glowing as much anymore but as soon as he passes another stand it lights up again immediately. Wood, then. Oh God, that is so _cool_ -

" _Loki_." With a blink, Tony stops in his tracks at the sound of someone else speaking from literally _right_ behind him; with a voice he's not actually heard yet. Turning around, he finds himself face-to-chest with an armored Asgardian man. _Man_ this time, because really, next to him Loki only looks like an adolescent compared. "Hiding again, I see. You were meant to be at the training grounds _two hours_ before, to meet me."

"Was I?" Loki asks him, smiling innocently. Tony takes a step back, automatically coming to stand next to him. An arm wraps around his waist as soon as he does, "I must have gotten distracted showing _Anthony Stark_ his new home."

The guy only spares a nod in Tony's direction, the opposite to what everyone else has shown to him so far, and that alone makes him raise an eyebrow.

"Then perhaps you should have shown him _afterward_ , if so little can distract you." _Little?_   "Or brought him to the training grounds, where he could see what a coward you truly are."

"Coward?" Loki's arm tightens around his waist when he speaks but it doesn't quite warn him off, "Okay, is this seriously just for a _fight_ , because if it _is_ then it can wait. I'm actually kind of enjoying myself right now, before you blundered in ruining it, so whatever your peeve is you can discuss it later." Take that, Mr _Curt_. He smiles when the man looks down at him then, acutely aware of just how small he is in contrast, but his words obviously hit the nerve that they were intended to. He's given a lot more than just a curt nod _now_.

He's given attention.

And it's probably only because of his new status that Big Foot doesn't actually hit him for that, but Loki tugs him backward anyway when it's clear that the guy really wants to, "Couldn't have said it better myself. Good day Alfr."

They're blocked before they even make it a few steps, though, "You owe me a _rematch_ trickster." This  Alfr guy growls over them, almost a head taller than Loki as he towers over Tony like a Giant. A crowd starts to form now, listening in but nothing really happens beforeTony glances to the side at the sound of a heavy set of footsteps, and almost sighs with relief when he sees that it's Thor.

"What is this?" He calls to both Alfr and Loki, his face void of the cheer he usually seems to have on it. Tony looks back at the disk, his arms aching from holding it for so long but right now, it's the least of his problems. No one answers the question given but he bites his tongue, knowing that neither of the brothers here would appreciate him interfering.

Finally, Alfr turns to Thor, "Your _brother_ is refusing the rematch that he promised me. He cheated the last time, I demand another turn."

"Cheated is a rather ambiguous term, Alfr," Loki counters smoothly, "And though it was not _me_ who did cast that spell, I _do_ have them to thank for stopping you from breaking my ribs."

"Not you?" Alfr scoffs cruelly, "The _only_ one of us that uses the woman's craft is _you_ and only you. Your lies do not work on me, Loki."

What a dick.

"I do recall the promise for a rematch, Loki." Thor puts in, defending Alfr, "We were all there when it was said." Loki rolls his eyes at him angrily, gritting his teeth in an obvious tell of his annoyance, "Alfr. When was this rematch said to be?"

"Two _hours_ ago." He all but spits, glaring at Loki, "I knew he would be late, but I did not think he would completely hide altogether."

"I do not _hide_ Alfr. And if a rematch is what you desire, then you shall have one." His knuckles cracking as he clenches his hands, he gestures in irritation, "Lead the way, then. I will follow."

"Will you." Alfr sneers, turning and stomping off in the other direction. Thor and the crowd leave with him; the latter obviously eager to see some blood.

Despite the calm that he'd been giving out during that conversation, Tony's actually more than concerned right now. On Earth, a fight is just a tumble. A bit of a roughing up, unless you're part of the mafia or something. But on _Asgard_ it could be a whole lot more than that, and he's doesn't think he's particularly okay with watching someone that he knows get the shit beaten out of them, by some hulking of a person. Especially when he's kind of _married_ to said someone. " _Tell_ me you're not actually going to fight that guy." He blurts aloud, before he can stop himself, swallowing when Alfr's huge shadow engulfs them both as he walks away, "He's got to be, what, eight foot?"

"Seven."

"Whatever, he's _huge_. You'll get crushed."

Loki gives him a tight smile, "Weapons are allowed, I'll be fine."

"Even _worse_ if they are. You'll be severed instead." He's ignored as Loki starts to walk ahead, so he grabs at his wrist before he can turn the corner, "Look, I don't want to be a widower so soon, okay."

Loki's smile softens into amusement now, and he twists his wrist back to take Tony's hand as he had before, pulling him forward, "If Alfr killed me, he will have killed an Asgardian _Prince_. He knows better than that."

Tony falls into step beside him, "So you _are_ going to fight the dickhead then."

"He dismissed my honor," Loki mutters, his face darkening, "I've no choice now." Despite the undisguised anger that he's clearly feeling right now, the look that he gives Tony is almost mischievous, "Ironic, actually, that he'd come just as we discussed creating _faces_ for ourselves."

Huh.

They reach the training ground in just under another minute, and are immediately forced into the same crowd from before. Loki's glare moves them all aside to let them pass, though, and Tony lets go of his hand to stay behind as he walks into the middle of the area to stand just before Alfr.

Thor comes to stand beside him then, putting a hand on his shoulder that Tony shrugs off subtly, not wanting anyone else to see his reaction. 'Faces' in mind, and all that. "How comes you didn't defend Loki?"

A sigh above him ruffles his hair over his face, "Because it is _he_ who is in the wrong here, Anthony. The last time he fought with Alfr, he used his magic to knock him from his feet to win the battle."

"He said that wasn't him."

Thor huffs a short laugh, "He would."

Jesus, this is so _conflicting_. Who the hell is he supposed to side with? Is he even _meant_ to take a side? And what the hell is he even supposed to do in these kind of situations, just _stand_ there? God, he feels like a freaking Maid Marion in one of his dad's favorite 'Robin Hood' movies, or something. 

Alfr's sword scrapes the ground as he waits for Loki to choose his own weapons from the stand, and Tony almost jumps out of his skin when Thor suddenly shouts next to him, so close to his ears that he's sure he went deaf for about a second afterward, "No weapons this time. Loki sees his _magic_ as a weapon, so he will only use it again."

Well, why _can't_ he? If you got something, use it.

Giving a dark look over to his brother, Loki sucks in a breath as he flings the knives in his hands to the floor. They jut out of the ground but are then knocked over by Alfr's sword as he all-too-happily throws it aside. "Very well, sire." He answers Thor's order, straightening as he looks at Loki.

They move together then, starting on some invisible 'go' signal, and Tony tenses as he watches; the disk digging into his palms as he clenches his hands around it. Alfr catches Loki's starting blow with his arm easily, and aims for the stomach just as it's vulnerable. Loki twists out of his way, though, spinning backward and avoiding a punch that would probably have made him vomit blood if he'd been human. Wide-eyed, Tony suddenly realizes that a lot of people are looking at his reactions as he stares at the fight, but he can't force his expressions to become neutral no matter how much he tries. Because right now, yeah, he genuinely _is_ scared for Loki.

This time when Loki strikes, he hits Alfr's ribs with a kick, gritting his teeth when he doesn't quite manage to get out of the way fast enough to not catch the answering blow to his neck. Choking, he puts a hand to it as he struggles to take in a few breathes after that, trying to recover before he's then kicked again and knocked down onto his ass. Tony winces for him, biting his lip. Alfr barely lets Loki get back up before he's on him again, clearly _really_ angry about the whole 'cheating' thing, and he stamps down on Loki's face.

There's a snap. "Oh God. This is a little too _much_ , isn't it?" Tony gasps out, but Thor's barely listening - smiling as the crowd begins to chant for Alfr's victory.

No one chants for Loki to get back up, Tony notices, narrowing his eyes as he watches.

 _Because you are married to_ me _, and not to someone the people love._

Oh.

The crowd gets louder and Loki staggers to his feet before he's pushed down again. Tony sucks in a breath, annoyance at everyone else bleeding into his own chants, "Come on Loki, _get up_!" His voice doesn't quite carry over the crowd, but some of the bystanders glance over at him anyway, " _Fight back_!" Louder now, both Loki and Alfr look at him and he puts both his thumbs up in encouragement, placing the disk under his right armpit. " _Go on_ , you can do it!"

Alfr looks around at the crowd when their chants simmer down around Tony's ones, and they start up again quickly. Loki gets to his feet then, bending backward with some pretty amazing flexibility when Alfr tries to knock him down again. They trade blows then and Loki uses his smaller height to advantage by ducking under kicks and elbows, spinning on his toes to deliver his own ones back.

And when Alfr is forced to take three steps back from a powerful kick to the stomach, the crowd stops chanting immediately; Tony rises onto his tip-toes in anticipation now. Come on.

 _Win_ this thing.

Loki's faster now that he's so close to winning, lashing out with quick and sharp blows to every sensitive spot on a person's body, but Alfr blocks most of them still. They're both still on such stable ground and it's only really when Loki catches Alfr's nose and chin, sending a splatter of blood over the sand, that the fight even looks like it's going anywhere. Wiping at his mouth, Alfr lunges at Loki with a roar, catching him around his waist and yanking him down to punch him across the face, twice.

"Shit - "

Loki shoves him off, shakily holding a hand to his now-broken cheek and he spits to the side as he stands. They parry again then and Loki slides down on his knees to jam a rock that he'd found into Alfr's crotch.

" _Ooh._ " Tony flinches with a grin at that move, noticing the smile that Loki has on his own face when Alfr doubles over in pain. The crowd chants again, still excluding Loki, and that spurs Alfr on to lunge one more time, knocking Loki aside by shoving his shoulder into his neck and yanking his sword up and out of the ground, to force the handle into Loki's chest; actually making him cry out. " _Hey_ \- ! That's - no _weapons_ , that's _cheating_!"

"Loki did so in the _first_ fight." Is Thor's answer to that.

Tony glares up at him. "Do any of you actually _know_ that, or is it all just _assumption_?" All he gets is a frown from his tone but not any other _real_ answer of verification so he guesses that, no, they _don't_ actually know. Fucking idiots.

But then, in the corner of his eye, he sees Loki trying to roll onto his side before he's then hit again with the sword's handle and he bites his lip at how limp he goes after that; still getting to his feet anyway.

Alfr smiles, knowing that he's won now and that he's now regained his freaking ' _honor'_ back, even though he's doing it by _cheating_. He holds the sword up and Loki braces, his lip split and his hand at his ribs, holding himself tenderly, and that sword could probably do a _lot_ of damage. This isn't right -

Before he even knows it, Tony's moving forward.

He pushes himself up over the stand around the training area, launching himself over it before Thor can even react, and he lands on Alfr's back, quickly wrapping his arms around his neck to hold on and pull his aim away from Loki. The crowd gasps at his intervention and he panics when he doesn't know what to do anymore, especially now that he's just riding the guy like a wild bull. The disk in his hand almost slips out then, so he quickly uses it to jam into Alfr's neck, hurting him enough that he drops the sword to try and yank him down. " _That's_ \- for _cheating_ \- !" He grits out.

The collar of his shirt is grabbed, though, and he's thrown off -  landing hard against the stand with a grunt, " _Ah_ \- " He hisses out in pain, still holding tight to the disk as he watches Alfr recover enough to turn in time for Loki's final blow. He's no longer holding himself so carefully and the blood that he'd had on his face before is wiped away on the back of his hand to reveal a superficial and _tiny_ little cut.

Oh. _Oh_. He'd just been _feinting._

Well he feels stupid now. Tony tries to sit up, wincing when his back protests and shuffling his feet back just as Alfr falls before him; the punch that Loki had delivered being far stronger than any of his others. Either because he'd been holding back before, or because he's just a whole lot angry now, Loki _won_ that like it was suddenly no effort at all for him. Maybe it's a bit of both, then.

He sits up a little straighter then, when Alfr finally gets to his feet, glaring down at him. He tenses, "Hi." Readying himself for the predictable bout of rage that's about to come, but come on, Loki had won _fairly_. All Tony had done was stop him from cheating. _Loki_ had even waited for him to recover from it before fighting again, so there's nothing he can technically complain about. Still, he stops breathing when the guy towers over him like that, looking up with a half-smile of innocence.

"Alfr." Thor calls over, "Prince Anthony is _not_ your foe."

"He interfered."

"I stopped you from _cheating_ , actually." Tony protests, "You didn't like it so much when _Loki_ supposedly did, so where do you get off on being a hypocrite? Ever heard the saying two wrongs don't make a ... a right ... ?" He trails off a little at the look on the guy's face, chewing on the inside of his cheek instead. Why can't he ever just shut up?

Loki steps around them then, looking down at Tony with a frown. Oh, nice. Is that his thanks? "Move aside Alfr. You injured him already, and he is only mortal. Leave it as it is, or else the King will have to be involved."

He's sneered at, but clearly listened to, because Alfr does then just go; grabbing at his sword in a huff as he leaves and pushing through the crowd. _Jerk_. "Can't believe I fell for your feinting."

"You were all meant to." Holding out a hand, Loki pulls him up by his bicep and leads him out through the crowd.

"Are you well, Anthony?" Thor asks when he reaches them, actually looking concerned, but Tony just waves him away with a nod.

"I fell against some wood, big deal. I'm fine." Seriously, what _is_ the deal around here? Feinting or not, that had been an _intense_ fight so where's _Loki's_ concern? Is there something that he's done to all of them, or something, or do they just not like the way he is?

Looking around there actually _is_ a significant difference in each Asgardian and with Loki. Maybe that's why Odin's chosen Thor for Crown Prince. Hot-headed and a lover of fights, he may be, he's still loved by the people.

Loki - from what Tony can see - isn't.

They walk through the palace in silence and aren't disturbed at all. What's more off, though, is the fact that Loki doesn't say a word at all the entire walk back. Tony keeps himself silent as well, though; more over the fact that he can't actually think of anything to _say_ than because of anything else.

But then. When they turn away from the corridor leading to their rooms, he does finally ask, "Where are we going?"

"To the baths." Is Loki's curt answer, and though he opens the door for Tony afterward, he does slam it shut once they're both in. He then starts to strip in the room adjacent to the actual baths, his back to Tony as he does. What's happened now?

"Was I _..._ um. Was I not meant to help you, or something?" Tony speaks up after a long while, his voice echoing though the quiet, and he tugs at his own shirt with a deflated sigh. "For honor? Or - whatever?"

Loki stops with whatever it is that he's doing, straightening his back and staring up at the wall, "Why is it," He asks, peeling his undershirt off to reveal some bruises on his back, "That whenever I am angry, you assume that it is because of you?"

Tony pauses as well then, in surprise, "Um. Because it - usually _is_ , with me?"

Loki sighs, turning to face him now and Tony freezes when he now realizes _why_ he hasn't been looking at him. "Oh God." The 'glamor' that Loki must have put over his face outside has gone now that he's no longer holding it there, and his cheek is far more damaged that it had looked in the training ground. His torso is okay, though and there's a couple of bruises, but those punches that Alfr had given to his face had clearly caused a lot more pain that anyone else now knows about. And that _snap_ too.

He'd hidden it the whole time.

"Ouch." Tony murmurs, sympathetically, walking toward him.

"Yes." Loki mutters back, making a face that only makes him cringe with pain afterward, "I can heal it, but it's such a _waste_ of time and magic. I wish he would stay away from the face, it's not as resilient as the rest of my body."

"You've fought more than twice, then?"

"Alfr has never defeated me." Loki mutters, "He uses the same lie that I use _magic_ to 'cheat' through our fights, only to create the idea that I am a coward, and that _he_ is the victim. Each fight, he aims for my face, and after every one I use my magic to heal it. After that, others sense it on me and assume that he tells the truth. That I cheated."

Horrible little roundabout. Tony frowns, staring up at him, "What, and _no one_ believes you?"

"I don't bother telling anyone." He sighs again, running a hand through his hair before bending to pull the rest of his clothes down. "Never mind, anyhow. What's done is done, and will always be that way. I can always just stay _inside_ tomorrow." _But then they'll say you're hiding_ , Tony thinks, before his brain is suddenly void of all thoughts apart of ' _naked, naked, naked'._ Loki kicks everything aside, standing there bare now, and Tony glances away for a second before looking back, and then away again.

Okay. He's going to need to get used to seeing this. Even _appreciating_ it, too. Because it's really not like he's _opposed_ to porn, he's seen a number of cocks in his life, and Loki's is actually _really_ \- " _Undress_ , then. The air is cold in here without the water."

"Oh - right." Tony starts, his hands finding the waistband to his jeans before he hesitates, actually feeling a little _embarrassed_ about just casually undressing like this. The first time he'd been naked with Loki, it had been dark and he hadn't even undressed _himself_.

It's very,  _very_ light in this room, in contrast.

With a look, Loki spins on his heels to give Tony some privacy and that snaps him out of it, "No, no it's fine. I'm not - I mean - look, you _can_ look. Wait. Not _look_ look, just - " Okay so maybe not. "I'm fine with it, really, I'm just - "

"Then get on with it."

" _Okay_. Okay." Shuffling out of them quickly, Tony kicks it all aside as well, shivering as goosebumps form over his bare skin as he hugs himself tight, rubbing his legs together to get warm. The hair over them both has barely even grown yet, after his waxing session on Earth, and he feels a little stupid with these little black dots all over his them. They should make up their mind, really. Either go bare, or go hairy. Don't just stick in _between_. "Okay, done."

"Good." Loki gives him a look when he turns, pulling open the doors to one of the private baths. It's a different entrance to the one that Fandral had shown him before, and he wants to say that before remembering the tension between the two of them, and swallowing his comment down instead.

Before he can even sit, though, Loki steps up behind him to suddenly press his nice-and-cool fingers against Tony's back. "You should not have interfered." He murmurs, softly. His fingers trail down over the most tender areas, soothing it with either the chill or from the magic.

If it's the latter, then he _really_ needs to understand how it all works. He'd left the disk with his clothes outside, so when they get dressed again, he can maybe study it in their room. Take it apart and hope that Loki can fix it if he does something that's actually unable to repair.

"He was cheating."

"I was fine. I would have defeated him anyway. I always do."

Tony spins around to face him with a laugh, "Ego, much?" He sits down then, rolling his shoulders back when the pain in his back doesn't hurt as much anymore. "Thank you." He then says, sounding far too soft to his own ears, but not really caring, that much, anyway.

Being _neutral_ , and all.

"Are _you_ okay?" He then remembers to ask, squinting in concern, "Other than your face, is there anything else in need of healing?"

Loki smiles, leaning against the wall and letting water shower over him from over, sticking his hair to his face. "No. Alfr may look strong, but only with a sword can he actually do damage. I healed those marks long before we got here."

"What, as we _walked_?" He's grinned at. Yep. He's got an _ego_ , alright. "Anything minor then? Because my mom gave me some antiseptic ointment in case I'd need it. I could rub it into you, if - if you wanted?"

"There is nothing else, but thank you." Loki stretches his legs out, sliding down the wall until he's almost lying down, "I would welcome the 'rubbing' on it's own, however, my limbs all _ache_."

Tony smiles at his tone, sliding a little closer over the floor and splashing some warm water onto Loki's chest. It pools around his neck and he grunts, turning his head to the side to let it drip down. "I'm not all that good at massages, sorry."

Loki's teeth glint as they catch the light from the white tiles around them, "Another time then."

Tony's smile turns to a grin, "Maybe, yeah." He giggles, leaning against the same wall that Loki has only his head against, "Hey, do you think if I hit Odin hard enough on the head with my new disk, he'd let my mom come to Asgard?"

Loki's smile widens at first, before then suddenly, slowly fading. Tony pauses, looking down at him to ask why, before he suddenly sits up as well and twists until he can face him head on. "Odin will never be convinced otherwise."

Um. "No, I know, I was just kidd - "

"However." Looking at him oddly, again, Loki hushes his voice a little as though half expecting Odin to walk in here right now. Well it _is_ the family baths, that's actually very plausible. Ew, ew. Traumatizing image. _Ew_ , "After I left the hall, I did not return to you immediately."

Wait, what? "What do you mean?"

"Heimdall would never allow it, so I went _around_ him and contacted my Uncle instead. He is still here, though you've yet to meet him, and he agreed to help me." Tony opens his mouth to try and get him to get to his point, but Loki's hand covers it before he can. Obviously not wanting to be interrupted, in case of a sudden-Odin. "There are many ways through the realms, and most are known by me. Some use others as well, however. Particularly those from Midgard. To use one I needed his permission and the location of the entrance. My magic can easily cloak it."

"Wait. Are you ... are you saying what I _think_ you're saying?" Because if he _is_ \- then, wow, okay. He's actually put that _effort_ in? "Why didn't you say so before?"

"I was waiting until we were far enough away from the palace to say so, but _Alfr_ came behind us before I could." An ugly frown then covers Loki's face at the reminder of the fight but Tony ignores any of that and just focuses on the fact that Loki's found a way for his mom to come see him. Or even for _him_ to visit home sometimes.

And without his Dad's permission too.

"But - _why_? Why bother, Odin said no, you could have just left it at that."

Loki looks a little put off, "We agreed to start this on neutral terms. I could hardly halt your first condition when I knew I could find a way."

Tony's heart clenches with an intense bout of gratitude and he smiles at him, as genuinely as he can make it, and before he even think about his reaction, his arms move on their own accord and propel him forward, hugging Loki tight around the neck, " _Thank_ you!" The body that he hugs stiffens immediately  as he does, and only relaxes at least a minute into it. Tony stores that away for later knowledge and just hugs him a little tighter, "This is the _best_! I thought I'd be _stuck_ here without anyone I know from home but with _this_ , I can go back _myself_ and _more_ than my mom can come and see me! Really, Loki, _thank_ you!"

A hand plants over on his back and holds him closer until he can feel Loki's smile against his cheek, "Well. Clearly my decision was the right one to make, then."

"Oh you bet it was." Tony moves back, still smiling, and the water from above slides over his face, making it look as though he's actually crying from the gratitude. This is - this has made things so much better for him. He doesn't even care if they get caught with it, because it's more the fact that Loki had even _done_ this for him in the first place. It's - it's pretty fucking _sweet_ , is what it is.They're face to face now, close and still entwined in a hug, "I swear, I'm going to make such a fucking _huge_ effort for one of _your_ conditions now, too." He promises, water running into his eyes until he shakes his hair from his face and - 

Loki stops his moving with a hand on his chin. And just like that, he's serious again.

Tony's own sudden adrenaline simmers down but he still sits like that, one leg over both of Loki's, his arms around his neck and their chests pressed together. He's too happy to get embarrassed right now. Grateful beyond belief.

Loki leans closer, looking into his eyes whilst Tony's mood slowly sobers, "Your eyes," He whispers, "They had so much anger within them, when we first met." The water thunders around them, too loud now. Too much. " ... you did not want this."

His hand starts to slip off of his chin. Tony grabs at it before it can. "I told you, already. It's wasn't because of you." His eyes blur from the close-proximity, so he leans their foreheads together instead, "And anyway. That was then."

"What it is _now_ , then?" Loki murmurs, asking the question that sends Tony's heart beating twice as fast. Now? He doesn't know about _now_. He -

"Now's different." Is all he says to that. "It's - different." He doesn't know _what_ to feel, really. There's still so much that he doesn't know about this world, or about Loki and his place here. But already, he's _tried_ for him. And that's more than anyone else has ever done. Maybe it's just because of Howard's stupid rules, and because he's been on his own too much, but intimacy is something that he's a little wary of. He can't even think about love right now, still half-convinced that it's just a media-born lie.

Loki's fingers lift his chin a little higher as he meets his gaze, cutting his thoughts short. Conflicting instructions from almost everyone that he's ever had order him around run through his head now, and it's mostly _because_ of them that he doesn't even know how to react at all when Loki leans closer; testing the waters so gently. Trying out what married couples should be doing anyway.

He stays utterly still, though, frozen in place. Or, at least he is until Loki's lips finally touch his, and then he's pressing forward and kissing him back. Taking it further, deeper.

 _Wanting_ to know what it's like.

Stopping himself from holding back on this forced marriage and just letting his heart speak over his brain for once. This isn't Loki's fault anyway. And it's not his either. So instead of hating the entire situation, maybe he could always just make the _best_ of it.

Loki's hands skim over his back, kissing him harder now, before -

Before the doors open, and they break off just as a - _thankfully -_ clothed Thor walks in. Tony springs back immediately, accidentally knocking his elbow into Loki's stomach but it doesn't even make him grunt, so it's probably okay. Thor, on the other hand, doesn't even look phased at all.

"Dry yourself up, the both of you. The final celebration feast is in an hour, and Mother wants you both there."

He leaves without another word then, not even glancing at Tony but that's maybe just out of modesty. Tony's not his to look at, and all that shit. Panting slightly, from holding his breath and from the intensity of that _kiss_ , Tony turns to face him. "Cel - Celebration feast? Isn't the wedding stuff _done_ , already?"

"This is not for the wedding." Loki tells him, standing up with an irritated sigh, "It is for our apparent ' _Peace_ ' time, instead."

"Apparent?" Tony picks up.

Loki's face tightens. "Yes, well. Let's just say, there are some things better unsaid."

.

* * *

 


	7. Chapter 7

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* * *

 

 The clothes that Tony's put in for _this_ feast are marginally better and a whole lot more comfortable than the others that he's been given. He doesn't even fiddle with it at all.

The servants are obviously more than a little used to him now, as well, because they'd actually let him get dressed on his own this time, without their incessant tugging and clasping.

"This is a time for us all, to remember the many lives lost, but also those saved."

The high collar of his light, dress shirt digs into his chin as he leans against the table, his cheek resting on a fist and his eyes drooping through the mono-toning speech that Odin's been banging on about for at least an _hour_ now.

"With the casket of Jotenheimr safe within Asgardian walls, war is ended and our realms have never been any safer than they have been since that last battle." For an anniversary speech, he's taking it all a little to heart. But then, thinking back to his one eye, maybe he should.

"At least _try_ and stay alert." Loki murmurs to him from his left and he blinks with a start, opening an eye to look at him.

"Huh?"

As he does, he catches Frigga looking over at him with an admonishing smile so he quickly straightens in his seat; rubbing at his cheek as subtly as he can. "Sorry." Loki's lips just twitch in answer but it's more Odin that he should worry about anyway.

Luckily, Mr Paranoia is more focused on the crowd that listening to his every word, instead of his family.

Sighing, Loki taps a beat over the table with his green-painted nails, staring off at the walls - not even bothering to hide his boredom. There had been a brief argument in their room about doing the same to Tony's as well, only to paint the colors of his 'family' instead. The typical red. Ha. _No_ , had been the answer, and it's going to stay that way. His nails are too short anyway, he tends to bite them. 

Still. The way that the color glints on Loki's, shining and glossed, is admittedly pretty nice to look at.

A creak alerts him to movement, and it takes a moment for him to realise that, while he's been staring at Loki's hands, Odin has actually finally stopped speaking and the feast is due for them all.  _Finally_. He's starving. Servants bustle around, carrying trays between them, and meat, cheese, bread and some weird pasta-shaped thing is deposited right in front of Tony whilst the rest of it is spread further down the table for the others. Thor digs in right away, on Odin's other side, whilst Loki slowly picks out a plate for Frigga, himself, and then offers to do the same for Tony, as well.

"Oh. No, it's cool. I'll, um. I want to know what most of this _is_ before I eat it, you know?" He's given a look, which just makes him sigh and give in to be done with it, " _Alright_. Fine. Go ahead." Lifting his plate up haughtily, Loki pulls a huge carving knife out from the meat and cuts into it easily, tugging a good chunk of it's insides onto the plate that Tony'll be eating from.

Yuck.

"This is from the meat of a _Oyrten_." He explains as he cuts, "Or, in Midgardian vernacular, it would better be known as _Possum_."

Tony eyes the pretty bulk of dead animal that's just a few inches away from him - large, cooked, and taking up an entire silver tray all on it's own. "Pretty big Possum." He mutters, looking down at the plate that he's given. There are a few other things placed on it too, along with some kind of juices spilled over the meat to keep it moist.

" _Avanta_. Made from common wheat." Loki says, using his own fork to poke at the pasta-like food, "Cheese and bread, you know, though this cheese will not be from any cow that you will have seen."

" ... right."

"And _this_ was a former servant." Loki finishes, then, lifting up something between his knife and forefinger and showing Tony a human-looking eye.

"Oh - " He jerks back with a start, putting a hand to his mouth because _holy shit_ \- but when Loki laughs, he knows he's been had. "Funny." He then grits, watching as the eye disappears into the magic that Loki had used to create it. _Ass_.

Taking a breath, he looks back up at the rest of the hall and watches as they all tuck into everything before them. Hm. Maybe it's just because he's a full-bred New Yorker, but he's pretty used to the average burger more than anything else, and rarely eats anything more extravagant than that - unless he's at a Gala - so to be given _this_ as his usual meal now is more than a little off-putting. 

As he sits there, his mother's voice decides to echo around in his mind, reminding him of the the clichéd _Mom_ phrase: " _Tony. How do you know if you don't_ like _it, if you haven't_ tried _it yet?"_

Okay. Chewing on the inside of his bottom lip, he stares down at the plate and waits for the 'right' moment to actually pick up his fork and try a bit. A servant comes up behind him to top up the wine in his goblet, but he's not even touched his yet. Loki, however, refills his twice; glancing at him not-so-subtly to get on with it and _eat_.

And who is he to talk anyway, there are _plenty_ of countries on Earth that eat foods that he's not used to and that he thinks are disgusting.

Horse meat, snakes, frogs, and Haggis are just the beginning of the long list of food that Tony's genuinely wanted to puke over. So _obviously_ , there'll be some in Asgard too. He's just being picky. But, then again, he's actually got a few allergies as well, unfortunately. So - major concern here - what if some of these things trigger something new, for him?

Lifting a fork, he stabs at one of the _Avanta_ pieces, and holds it before his parted lips. Well. Better to find out _now_ , if he is or not, seeing as there's a few people around here who won't let him _die_. Placing it on his tongue, he tests it out before closing his mouth around it and chewing slowly. Swallowing does nothing to him and he waits for a bit longer, too, to see if there's any other immediate reactions.

Nothing happens. He licks his lips, tasting it again and - thinking on it some more - it actually tastes a little like Ravioli. Something that he's quite fond of, surprisingly. Hm. Having another bite seems to be fine as well, with no allergic reactions at all, so he tucks in along with everyone else after that. The cheese tastes fine too, and the bread's taste actually _improves_ when dipped into the strange colored sauce that's around the Avanta. Because seriously, _that_ is delicious.

He can't say the same for the meat, however. The - _Oyrten,_ or whatever it is _._ Cutting into it was a tougher job than he'd thought it'd be, reminding him of an overcooked slab of beef, but when he does finally slice into it it's texture on his tongue just makes him shiver. Eugh.

He tries it anyway, but the taste is _awful_. It's stringy, gritty, along with a texture that reminds him a little too much of vomit if he's honest; with a _taste_ that's similar too. Or maybe that's just him. The meat, then, he leaves. But everything else is actually perfectly okay. Which is a huge relief, he'd rather not starve.

"Here." Loki lumps another bit of meat onto his plate suddenly, grabbing it from a different tray, " _Lyser_. It may taste better, to you, I think. A little similar to meat that you eat on Earth, I've found." He makes a face. "Well. In the times that I have actually visited your realm, anyway."

Tony looks down at the entire leg that Loki's cut out for him. "Um, thanks? And what's the Earth alternative for this one?"

"There isn't one."

Right. Prodding at it with a fork as though it'll come alive at any moment, Tony shoves it off of the Oyrten - in case their tastes might mix together somehow - and spreading it through the Avanta's sauce just in case. He then tries the tiniest piece that he can, finding it's texture a little better than the other one with the taste not being so bad either. At least, until he follows. _The_ _n_ it's more like - " _Mm_."

"Hm. You see." Loki smirks, way too smug about the fact that he'd been right. Tony glances up at him with a quirked eyebrow, opening his mouth to retort before noticing something down the table that knocks anything else out from his mind.

Now that most of the family - not including him - have finished eating, _desert_ in being brought out.

 _Ooh_.

"Cake!" Tony gasps, his eyes wide as he watches already-cut slices being given out by the servants, and he leans forward even more to look past Loki and _stare_ as Frigga takes her slice with a smile. "You have _cake_?" Loki looks down at him, giving him a strange look, "I _lov_ _e_ cake."

"If you say so." He doesn't even look when he's handed his cake, and it's then that Tony realizes it's actually slightly different to the ones on Earth. Well, _duh_ , but he hopes that the flavor is still the same.

"Um. There's no meat or anything in it, is there?"

"Why would there be?"

Tony yanks his fork back up, "Just checking." The first scoop is _heaven_. He's not had cake in so long and there's something about this one's icing that makes it divine. It's probably some Asgardian ingredient that he's not heard of or tasted before, but right now, he doesn't actually give a shit and just wants to eat more and more of it. "So." He mumbles around a mouthful, "This is for the end of the war between the Jotun, isn't it."

"For the peace time that started after it, yes. But it is _also_ in honor of each and every one of our new alliances, as well. Including," Tilting his goblet toward him, Loki smiles, "Earth's."

Alliance. Their marriage.

Tony scowls at him, "You said this wasn't for our marriage."

"It isn't, _technically._ "

Right. Tony rolls his eyes, looking away and picking at the rest of his cake with the fork and reaching for his wine when he catches sight of some of the benches before him, where a group of men sit laughing around their meal. His mood sours just a little when he sees Alfr is in the middle of them, knowing it's mostly because the guy had made such an impression on him before, that Tony can almost  _smell_ the asshole on him.

His band sits so close to the head table too, where the royal family sits, and Tony can easily lip-read every single thing that he's saying. The words ' _coward_ ' and ' _magic_ ' pop up quite a few times, along with _'mortal'_ , which is undoubtedly him.

_So you want to gossip, huh?_

Loki notices him watching and only grimaces, "They will bore of the topic soon, don't worry." Frowning, Tony looks up at him, and then back. He takes a long sip from the wine in his goblet as he glares over at them, waiting for the servant that carries the _particular_ wine - the one that's diluted enough for him to drink - comes back. Once it's refilled, he then tips out just a little into his plate and dips some of the remainder meat into it; soaking it enough that it's dripping.

_Then let's give everyone else something to gossip about, too._

He balances the meat on his fork, bending it back with effort and aiming with one of his eyes shut and his tongue poking out between his lips, only until he can - "What are you doing?"

"Shush." Loki's eyebrows twitch upward at that, before blinking sharply when Tony releases the fork and sends the dripping chunk of meat flying off of the table, twisting in the air until it's splats into Alfr's forehead, just as he throws his head back to laugh.

"Ha!" Tony covers his mouth as soon as he let that out sound and he watches as Alfr almost falls off his chair in surprise, swiping the meat from his head in disgust and knocking someone else off of the table with his huge arms, leading them all into a predictable fight where they each believe each other to be the fault of it all. Tony laughs before he can stop himself, sitting back and dropping his fork beside his mess of a plate, his smile softening when Loki doesn't get angry at him at all, and actually _joins in_ ; not quite pointing and laughing, but getting there.

The fight escalates until Alfr takes it too far and throws one of his 'friends' into another table, and the hall grows quiet as they all watch.

" _Enough_!" A guard separates them but Alfr shoves the hands off of him, standing to walk out of the hall himself instead of being dragged out like a bad cat that scratched the sofa. He catches sight of Tony as he goes, glancing at his hand - the one that's still on his fork - and he then narrows his eyes into an _icy_ glare. Tony just winks at him, with a grin. Serves the prick right.

"You shouldn't antagonize them, Loki." Frigga's warns her son, gently, but Loki only clears his throat loudly, when his laughter finally dies down; glancing at Tony just the once. Most of the chat in the hall is still hushed but it immediately starts up again, as soon as the doors shut after Alfr and his friends.

And _cue_ new gossip.

"It was not _me_ , mother." Loki murmurs beside him, taking a sip of his wine. Tony tries to look contrite when she looks at him then, but Frigga's eyebrow raise lets him know that he's not exactly sincere looking.

"Sorry, your highness." He offers, "But. To be _fair_ , they really deserved it." A hand suddenly plants itself on his shoulder from behind and he freezes immediately, almost swallowing his tongue when it practically sinks him further into the seat from it's strength.

"What does it matter? Whether it was _deserved_ or not, it was amusing regardless." Loki glances up, and while he looks a little subdued now, he doesn't seem all together alarmed at seeing whoever it is there, so Tony relaxes too, just a little; trying to turn around to see them himself.

"It _matters_ , Freyr. A _prince_ must act as a prince." Frigga scorns the newcomer, and at the sound of the name, Tony quickly wracks his brains for the information that he'd gotten back home. Okay, okay. So in the Norse Mythology books that he'd read back in the library, Freyr is the name of Frigga's _dad,_ but both Howard and Loki have said that she has a brother instead. So. It's possible that the books have got it wrong, or _maybe_ the dad just named his son after himself.

That tends to happen in cultures like this, doesn't it? So, this must be the uncle then. The one who's agreed to help Tony go home sometimes and get Maria to visit here too. That guy.

"Ah, but little Anthony Stark here is only getting _used_ to being a prince. He is not quite there yet so, sadly, we will all have to ignore any mistakes until then." What the hell is with everyone here calling him 'little'?

Shaking her head at him, Frigga only returns to her cake rather than commenting further and begins a conversation with Odin instead, ignoring her brother with as cold a shoulder as any other woman that Tony's ever met. Ouch. Freyr doesn't seem to care, though, and just pats Tony's back as he passes, smiling and taking his seat just next to Thor again. Tony continues to sit in the same position, not quite sure what to say or how to react.

"My uncle." Loki introduces for him in a drawl, licking his fork clean, "You should probably give him your thanks, at one point."

"Yeah." The 'particular' servant comes back then and he quickly holds out his goblet, eagerly letting it be refilled before almost spilling it anyway when there's a flash just near the ceiling. "W - "

Loki groans beside him, leaning over the table to send a look toward Thor in an automatic reaction that speaks _volumes_ about their relationship. So they do have some things in common then. Huh. "Entertainment." Loki explains, looking back at Tony; incredibly annoyed for whatever reason. Tony just raises an eyebrow, looking back at the hall where tables are now being moved aside.

More flashes begin to spark off from everywhere and he can now see the magic for what it actually is. If he could just get a good up-close look at those lights, he could probably analyze how each particle changes color through the person's own will. He could even create something like that himself, too. It is, after all, just a really intense version of a hologram, and come on - they don't call him his ' _father's son_ ' for nothing.

However awful the phrase is, it's true. He's a genius.

"What kind of entertainment?"

"Dancing mostly. Simple tricks for the simple _minds_ of their audience."

"So how come's Thor doesn't like it?" _That_ brings a smile to Loki's face, but before he can answer some of these said-dancers enter the hall. "It's kind of medieval, isn't it? Excluding the magic, and all. No offense."

"None taken, I agree entirely."

The dancers aren't exactly naked or on their way there, so that's a plus toward modernization, though. They're fast too, and not so much the belly-dancers that he'd imagined them being when Loki had first said the word ' _dancer'._ Mostly women, they twist and turn to the music played by others from their group, and even ask some of the audience members to join in with them too. Tony notices Fandral accept an offer of his own, dancing beside one of the taller women until he can get close enough to put his hands on her hips, making some of the Asgardians around cheer.

Oh boy.

Barely a minute into the dance, however, Fandral badly slips over some split wine and knocks into a table, catching sight of the same wine disappearing almost immediately afterward as well. He glares over at Loki in return, but gets back into the dance anyway.

"Now, see _I_ prank for a reason." Tony mockingly-scolds, "You're just horrible."

"No. _I_ am only _b_ _ored_." Loki corrects, tripping up another dancer before letting it all stop when Frigga places a hand on his arm. He sighs then, slouching instead and drinking from his wine. Tony rests his head on both hands, watching avidly as the dancing gets faster and as more of the offers are refused than accepted. A dancer tip-taps over the steps toward Thor and Freyr, too, sliding her hips to each side in what's probably supposed to be a mesmerisingly luring move, but only really reminds Tony of a dolphin.

Thor glances away when she trails a hand down the side of his face, his eyes quickly and obviously finding the dark-haired woman in the hall instead, and - _oh._ So that's why he doesn't like the entertainment, then. Too easily aroused and not wanting to be? Looking back at her - Sif's her name, right? - Tony wonders if she knows that's she's Thor's bonor-remover. Not a nice thing to be, really, so he really hopes not. But then, alternatively, she might even be something else.

Thor doesn't look the sort to be so faithful, but what does he know? He barely knows him.

But if he's right, then he wonders if _Odin_ knows too, and what would have happened if Thor and him _had_ actually gotten married like they were supposed to. Would he have just been in the way?

Shaking his head with a sigh, he reaches for his wine again instead, hating how he always seems to read too much into things, before he's then horribly snapped back into present time when his wrist is grabbed on it's way to his goblet. The dancer smiles at him, pulling him to his feet.

Oh no. _No, no, no_. He shakes his head quickly, trying to pull his hand back, "No, no. No really, thanks but I'd really rather stay here and just wa - _hey_!" Stronger than she looks, she tugs him up with a single yank on his arm and leads him down as she giggles. " _No_ , I don't want to, I'm not - let _go_ , Jesus - !" He looks over his shoulder at Loki, for _help_ , but all he gets for his plea is a smirk. Perfect.

 _Now_ he seems to like the entertainment.

Pulled in front of everyone else now, Tony ceases his struggling, not particularly wanting to look as weak as he is or cowardly. The other dancers flit around him as he stands there like an idiot, trialing their hands through his hair and taking his hands in theirs to spin him around with them. He bites his lip, the music overwhelmingly loud from how close he is to it now, and he's tugged in all sorts of directions like a toy.

If this is some sort of Asgardian _welcoming_ thing, he's going to scream.

"Move your feet like this, sire." A dancer instructs him with a smile, her black hair flowing behind her as she bounces on her toes, but Tony's still stuck on  _sire_ and doesn't really get what she's saying until she moves him herself. "Follow my movements."

"Can't I just got back to my seat now?" They giggle around him, and he's spun again, shown the moves one more time before made to copy them. Taking a breath, he lifts his feet in his boots, balancing on his toes and trying to get into the music. Unfortunately, all the dance moves that he knows are just a _little_ inappropriate to show right now. Not to mention, none of them really go with this beat anyway. 

"Follow my movements." She lifts her arms so he does too, feeling like a complete idiot but - at least - judging from the sincerity of their smiles, he's not doing too bad at it. He catches sight of Fandral when he spins, sitting down now, and gets a look of encouragement that both helps and irritates him with it's patronizing. "And _now_. Faster." They dance around him, getting faster and faster and making him copy their movements at the same pace. He spins as they do, twists when they say, laughing a little at every totter that he accidentally falls into, and then others begin to join in as well.

He moves his hips like they do, letting the male dancers take over and mixing the two moves together into something of his own.

When the dancing crowd is far too large for him, though, he manages to squeeze his way out of it and to run back up the stairs to sit in his seat again. Exhausted.

"Very graceful." Loki comments on his flop behind the table.

"I'd like to you see _you_ do better." He mutters, putting a hand over his eyes and breathing in slowly to catch his breath. He still hears Loki's amused scoff over it all, though.

"Another time, maybe."

"Yeah right." A finger prods at his hip and he jerks upright in an automatic reaction, glaring over at him to warn him off doing it again.

"Come." Is all Loki says, though, standing just as the music begins to get louder, "You will not want to be here when the _other_ entertainment arrives."

Standing up as well, Tony drinks the rest of his wine quickly, "Why not?"

"Because. If they hear that you _danced_ , then they will choose you for the other tricks as well. And I'm not sure how much _fun_ you'll have when your head is aimed at with knives." Tony blinks, following him out. Yeah, okay. _No_ to that, even more than the dancing.

Well, actually. It _had_ been a little fun, he'll give it that. A little, only, though. Embarrassing more than anything else. He runs to catch up with Loki, his shoes click-clacking over the floor as he does, "Can I ask you something, quick? Did I look like a complete idiot out there, during that?" He's glanced down at. "And be honest."

"I'm always honest."

Tony rolls his eyes again. "I did, then, didn't I." Usually, he wouldn't really care. He'd just have fun and screw the consequences, especially if he was as tipsy as he is now, too. But here, he _has_ to make an impression, he knows that. So, in _that_ way, it's kind of important to know. Especially as it's his first week here, as well. "Well?"

They reach their room before Loki answers and he opens the door for Tony to pass first, as usual, "At first perhaps." He says, shutting it after him and stretching until the bones in his shoulders pop, "But afterwards, once you gained the right movements I suppose? You actually looked quite ... sensual."

Tony freezes from where he's heading for a chair, blinks, and then turns around to face Loki again, "Sorry?" But Loki blows only out a few candles instead of answering, "Um. Okay?"

"You said to be honest."

"No, yeah. It's - it's fine." In the now-dim light of their room, Tony takes in a quick breath and hopes that Loki's eyesight isn't hugely better than his and that he can't see how flustered he's just made him with that _one_ , little comment, "I've just never been called that before, that's all."

With a sigh, Loki moves some of the still-lit candles around so he can see the rest of the room enough to move around it, "Then I don't know _who_ you've ever asked, because that's possibly the first thing that comes to mind when seeing you."

"I - "

Either the candle nearest to him is burning a little hotter, or the burning over his cheeks is something else entirely. "Not really." He protests, weakly. Good-looking, cute, he's been called plenty of times before. But _sensual_? That's a whole new branch of compliment, and it doesn't suit him. Not at all.

Loki turns to face him completely then, as serious as he'd been in the baths before all of a sudden. "Why not?" It's late now, and the stars shine in the window behind him, so strange compared to the ones from Earth that even Tony - with astronomy not exactly being his best subject - can see their differences so clearly. "Beauty is nothing to be ashamed of."

 _Beauty_ now? Okay, he needs to shut up. "I know it's not. I'm just - _not_." His face burns much hotter now, and he clears his throat, swallowing when Loki still doesn't look away from him. It's the _bluntness_ of his compliments, though. Like they're hard _facts_ with the way that he says them, and not just his opinion, and _that's_ probably what's making Tony blush like this.

He's just glad it's so dim right now, really. He hasn't blushed so hard since the first time he'd found _out_ about the gene.

"You asked me to be honest, and I have." Loki says, slowly, lowering his voice and heading for the bed now, "And I'll continue to be, in saying that I think you're wrong in your _own_ assumption of yourself." He pulls his boots off, tossing them aside. "But. Let's not argue, shall we?"

"This isn't arguing." Tony answers, on autopilot.

"Good." Is all Loki says to that, untying the vambraces on his arms and placing them over the table near the bed. Tony suddenly thinks back to their first night together, as he watches Loki slowly undress himself, remembering it all too easily - because, really, how can he fucking _forget_ _?_ Loki had taken his clothes off for him then, had waited for his actual consent, and had been so _gentle_ it hadn't seemed real.

Like a dream. So unlike what he'd thought it would be.

"Let me." Loki glances up before Tony's even aware of speaking, and before he knows it, he's taking the few steps forward until he can reach Loki and sit on the bed. He sits beside him then, meeting his questioning gaze for just a second, before moving Loki's hands from his clasps and undoing them for him; concentrating on the task only and slowly peeling it off just like Loki had done for him before. And really. _He's_ not beautiful.

Loki is.

"I'm - " He swallows his words, skimming his hands over the marble-like skin that he reveals bit-by-bit and lowering his eyes as he feels his face now grow _both_ hot and cold in a conflict of emotion. God, what is he doing? He doesn't usually react on instinct like this, except when drunk or -

Oh. The wine. Well, maybe that explains it, but still -

Lowering them, his fingers then find the bruises from the fight with Alfr; the bruises that Loki had claimed to have healed already. Or, maybe he has, and these ones are just taking their time, but whatever it is it still serves as a reminder. Even on their wedding night, Loki had come back with bruises all over his skin.

Tony clenches his jaw. Can he really live with a guy like this? A guy who can't decide on what emotion to show, who keeps too many things to himself, and who's apparently a bit of a fight-starter too. Can he _really_ just stand by and watch a fight like that happen, again? Except, maybe, with Loki on the losing side instead?

He takes in a sharp breath, sliding his hand off of Loki as he turns away to -

Loki's hand finds his before he can, and he places it over his chest with a smile, letting him feel his heart beat beneath it. "You told me, before, that this was different for you now. What did you mean?"

Tony swallows, flicking his eyes up once before looking down at his lap. "I don't know." He murmurs, honestly. "It's just - _different_." Thankfully, Loki seems to take that as an answer, even though it's the exact same one anyway, and he lets Tony pull his hand away after that.

"Different." He repeats, pushing his shirt down to the ground and tugging off his trousers as well. Tony shuffles to the side to give him some more room, his gaze darting all over him as he does. Hm. He seems to feel a little better doing it when the light's so dim like this, for some odd reason. "So." He then starts, louder than he'd meant to but mostly because he really wants a new topic, "Dancing and circus tricks is entertainment around here, then?" Loki's answer, however, is to literally reach over and yank Tony's shirt off of him, "He - !" The buttons scratch at his face as they rub against him, ruffling his hair as they catch in it too, and he rears back when it's finally off. "God, do you _mind_?"

"No. I'm tired. And you are still dressed."

"Well - _ask_ next time." Tony snaps, punching his arm and pretending that it actually hurts him, "I'll get there when I - " Loki throws the shirt to the ground and grabs at Tony's left leg now, ignoring him completely and pulling it onto his lap to unlace his boots. "Hey - would you _stop_ that, I can do it myself - !" Loki only laughs at his reaction, holding his struggling, and smiling when Tony sucks in a gasp as soon as his fingers stray a little too close to certain ticklish areas. "Loki!" His leg is released and he quickly toes off the other boot before he can get to that one too. "I think I prefer you when you're _not_ bored."

Leaning on his hands, Loki just raises an eyebrow at him and gestures that he do the rest himself. Gesturing back himself, with one finger up on something that he probably doesn't even _understand_ , Tony turns his back on him anyway and heads for his suitcase. With a sigh, Loki climbs into the bed and blows out a candle beside him, until it's too dark for Tony to even move around.

He finds himself smiling, then, despite Loki's behavior. God, he's either some sort of menacing and moody guy, an overly serious guy, or some hyperactive kid. There _are_ in-betweens too, though, but he really can't make up his mind on which one of those personalities he wants to stick with.

Looking over his shoulder, he can see Loki lying flat on his back now and he suddenly feels a slight stab of fear at the thought of lying beside him like this again. He'd been completely exhausted after the first night and hadn't really focused on the sleeping part, but now, actually getting _into_ bed with someone and _sleeping_ there with them ... ?

Oh God.

Looking at himself in the mirror as he passes, he tries to both calm and scold himself for worrying over so little a thing. His suitcase is as open as it's been this whole time, and he wonders if he should actually unpack it anytime soon. Probably. But, to be honest, he can't actually be bothered with it.

His 'pajamas' that he brought are mostly just pairs of sweatpants and black tank-tops. Not the most flattering of clothes, really, though the top suits him, at least. But - for _bed_?

He looks down at himself, biting his lip.

Okay, he's just wasting time here. He just needs to get it over with. Like - ripping off a band-aid, as they all say. Taking in a deep breath, he slowly pulls his trousers down and leaves them in a pile by the suitcase; padding over toward the bed as quietly as he can. Loki's lying on only the one side now instead of the middle, and Tony carefully peels back the top of the fur-covered blanket on the other side, to ease himself in. He moves slowly, and only relaxes once he's actually under the blankets and warm enough to close his eyes. Loki's just an inch away from him, though facing the other way with his hair fanning out over the pillows, and the proximity is seriously doing things to Tony.

After a minute of lying there rigidly, he - _slowly_ \- reaches for him, holding his fingers out and stretched, before then hesitating. Should he even do it, anyway? So far, anything intimate or "couple-like" with them, _Loki_ has initiated. Tony's just clung on for the ride, really, so it's logical that he want to return the favor.

Okay, here we go. He slides his arm closer again, pressing his lips together in indecision, and he's almost there before his hand is suddenly _crushed_ when Loki rolls over it instead. "Ow!" He hisses, pulling it out quickly and shaking it over the pillow, " _Ow_."

So obviously pretending to be asleep, Tony _knows_ that he'd rolled on purpose, so he flicks him in one of the places that he knows is sensitive on every male. The nipple. Loki squirms at that, with a frown, opening one eye to glare at him. _"Sleep_." He says, like it's an _order_.

Tony glares back, turning his nose up and rolling over himself, putting _his_ back to Loki instead of the other way around, now. A few minutes later, though, an arm curls around his waist just as he'd planned to do himself, and he doesn't hold back the smile it brings on, actually kind of liking Loki when he's being like _this_.

He just needs a name for this personality too.

Rolling over a second time, he presses his head into Loki's chest, letting the arm tighten around him as he curls up and feels Loki's smile on the top of his head, " _You_. Are very strange."

" _So_. Are you." Tony counters, yawning and settling in. 

He then easily falls asleep with his aching limbs, to the sound of the music from the dancing still echoing in his ears.

 

**_~_ **

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**_~_ **

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hope you're all still enjoying :)


	8. Chapter 8

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This chapter is dedicated to Isahbellah ;))
> 
> For you, darling Isa <3333

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* * *

 

Tony wakes up a lot warmer than he'd been when he'd fallen asleep.

Loki is already sitting up in bed, the light from the rising sun covering him in glow, "Leaving again?" He murmurs, voice croaky from sleep, and he groans when that only causes Loki to turn and let the sunlight shine onto him as well, "Mm, it's too _early_. Shut the curtains."

With a smile, Loki clearly chooses to be a dick, instead, and just lifts the blankets to dump them over his head; which _does_ effectively smother out the light, but it also pretty much smothers _him_ too. "Ugh." He grunts, kicking it off in a huff and rolling over to place his head in his arms.

"Early for you, perhaps." Loki murmurs then, leaning over Tony to reach for something on the table, and his hand brushes over his hair. Tickling it slightly and making him cringe his neck back at the touch. "But I'm afraid, I actually have things to do."

Aware of how childish he's currently being but not really giving a fucking _damn_ right now - after all, why _should_ he hide bits of himself? He's not a morning person, so Loki's just going to have to learn that now and deal with it however he want to - Tony kicks out his legs again and groans into the pillows, flopping himself against the fur like a fish out of water.

"But why does that mean that _I_ have to wake up _too_?" The bed moves as Loki gets up, laughing - probably getting his clothes to dress for the day - and Tony squints at the light still pouring over him as he rolls back over to face him, bundling the blankets around him until they bunch under his neck, "And what do you mean ' _things_ ' to do? What kinda things?"

"I have studies."

Tony blinks, " _Really_ _?"_ Don't Princes grow out of that sort of thing, or is that just fairytale knowledge speaking? "How come?"

Pulling on a clean-new shirt, Loki laces the strings at the neck as he answers, "The realms around us all have cultures of their own, along with different currencies, traditions and celebrations. As Prince of Asgard, the ruling realm over each of them, it's my duty to learn of them in case I ever need to travel to either of them."

"Sounds boring."

Loki smiles, "It is. But unfortunately, as _entertaining_ and enlightening as it would probably be for _you_ , you cannot come along with me."

Good. "Why not?"

Loki sniffs, making a face, "Algrim will not approve." Whatever that means, "But it will only be for half the day, anyway. I'll be back soon enough. Hopefully." He adds.

"And what I meant to do in the meantime?" Tony mumbles, dryly.

"Sleep?" Loki suggests with a grin, knowing full well that after waking up like this there was no way Tony could fall back asleep again. He disappointingly manages to catch the pillow that's thrown at him, " _Careful_. Married we may be, I am still a Prince remember." He lifts his chin high, probably in a mockery of whoever drilled that lesson into him, "Respect should be second nature when dealing with me."

"Yeah well, _apparently_ , so am I." Tony counters cheerfully, before throwing himself down into the pillows again, to try and get comfortable, "So respect _me_ and close the door on your way out." He just about hears Loki's light chuckle, either of disbelief or just plain amusement - he can't really tell - before his leg is suddenly grabbed with both of his husband's hands and used to literally _pull_ him out from under the blankets, " _Hey -_!"

Pinning his legs down then, Loki gives him a look of faux-anger, "Clearly, you're misunderstanding me a little here. So. _Perhaps_ , even as part of our time alone to ' _get to know each other'_ ," He imitates Tony's voice, making him scowl, "I ought teach you about 'respect'. Maybe even state it as one of my conditions, as well."

Tony gives him a look, raising an eyebrow, " Was that _supposed_ to sound as kinky as it just did?"

With a blink, Loki loosens his grip just a little, "As _what_?"

"Kinky." Tony repeats, rolling his eyes, before adding, "Sexual?"

That draws out a surprised laugh from Loki, making him think that it probably _hadn't_ been, but then he almost swallows his tongue - cutting off his remark about it - when one of his legs is suddenly lifted up and held against Loki's chest as he leans down over him one more time. "If you'd like?" 

Okay. Feeling more than a little out of his depth, Tony makes sure that the blankets cover him enough on automatic, before remembering how ridiculous that is, considering how much of him Loki's both seen and felt anyway. But still -

"Too soon." Ends up being his weak protest, and he doesn't even know what he means by that himself anyway, with _which_ 'soon' he really means. Too soon in the _day_ , or too soon in the _relationship_? Either way, though, Loki only smiles, making it clear that he'd only been joking - or 'jesting' - and he releases Tony's leg at that; letting it fall back over the edge of the bed as he heads for the polished wardrobe for his trousers now. Tony sits up a little then, shuffling backward until he can lean against the headboard and watch as Loki gets ready for his 'studies'. "So do you really just learn about other realms, _all the time_?" He asks, wanting to change the subject to will away his embarrassment. 

"And other duties that I may need." Loki adds, slipping his boots on before standing and running his fingers through his hair, a slight glow on his fingers making it clear what's _really_ un-knotting it.

" _May_ need?" Tony catches.

The smile that Loki gives him then, is nothing short of pained, "My future has not been decided for me, yet." Tony meets his gaze at that, not quite sure what to really say to that, so he just keeps quiet instead; picking at the fur on the blankets. The silence that they built between them, however, is cut short by a sharp rap at the door, followed by an aggressive rattle of the handle.

" _Loki_? Algrim is growing impatient with you, are you even _awake_ yet?" Thor's voice calls out, so loudly that it's possible he's woken half the palace with it, if they're not up already anyway. Everyone seems to be such early risers around here, the poor things. "Loki?! I would rather not come in there and disturb Anthony."

Oh, okay. Well, _that's_ a little awkward on too many levels.

"If he were not awake right now, _anyway_ , you would already have disturbed him with your voice alone!" Loki snaps back, " Tell Algrim to wait, I'm coming." There's a huff by the door, but then Thor's footsteps signify him leaving. Loki turns back again with a sigh, pulling on a traditional-looking jacket as he does - embroidered in green and black, it hugs his lean figure as he stands there - fastening it together before suddenly leaning over the bed to get a bit closer to Tony again.

Um.

Abruptly, Tony remembers that Asgardians seem to want to kiss hands as greetings and farewells so - fearing his emasculation - he quickly shoves both of his under the blankets, meeting Loki's raised eyebrow with a look of forced innocence. "See you later then." He says, waving a hand dismissively.

Both eyebrows now up at the gesture, Loki shifts back a little, a ghost of a smile on his face that makes it obvious he's thinking of something. And isn't _that_ scary. "Y - " Tony barely has enough time to even get a _bit_ wary, though, before Loki just promptly grabs at and lifts one of his bare legs again, holding it carefully and tight and making Tony practically bite his tongue in half to keep back whatever he might have said in his surprise.

Because, what the _hell_? He better not be pulled closer, or tickled, or anything like that because pride has it's limits and -

Tony practically stops breathing in the next second. Trying to, and staring, as he processes what's happening.

"I - " Loki's lips caress just above his calf, just below his knee, grazing over the skin there with these feather-light touches that send shivers running through his body like currents of electricity. Prickles of heat on both his cheeks informs him of blushes on their way, making him press his lips together tight and hunch his shoulders in on himself, sliding down the headboard until he can try and hide himself under the blankets a little more.

His leg is let go then, and gently placed back on the bed as Loki straightens again, walking toward the door like nothing had just happened, "Stay out of trouble." Is his irritating way of getting the last word, and he closes the door on Tony's dazed reply of ' _... sure_ '.

Okay. Letting his legs spread out, Tony stretches himself out on the bed and stares up at the ceiling, puffing out his cheeks as he exhales and tries to will his freaking blush away. What the hell's wrong with him, he shouldn't be letting gestures like that affect him so much, should he? God, he doesn't even know right now. His body has a mind of it's own and his mind hasn't anything at all anymore.

Running a hand down his face, he curls on his side with a sigh before deciding to actually get up anyway and start the day as well. May as well, there's no way he's getting to sleep now. Not with the reminder of a kiss on his skin making him squirm the way he is.

Grabbing for something to wear from his suitcase as he heads for the 'bathroom' - or, bathing area - he pauses for a moment, and turns back. Loki's wardrobe is still open, the doors ajar and some of the clothes peeking out as though they actually want to tempt him, and - well - with Loki gone now he can't actually resit. And why the hell not anyway? Loki'd made a bit of a fuss the last time Tony went out in casual clothing, so if he wants to go walk about in Asgard on his own, he's probably going to have to wear something a little more _them_.

Loki's clothes are all too big, though, taller than him and a little too green for his taste as well. So that rules it out, after all. Ah well. Maybe he can get his own fitted, too. That's probably already happening, anyway, knowing Odin. He pulls his jeans on with five tugs, and remembers Frigga's words as he washes his face clean: " _A prince must act as a prince."_

So is he going to get lessons on this stuff _too_ , then, if they all want him to act a certain way? He hopes not. He _hates_ having to act a 'certain' way, already used to it with his Mother's side of the family and has even had enough of it with his _father_ too. They all want him to be miniature _thems_ , it's disgusting. 

After cleaning himself up a bit, he ends up wearing just some ordinary jeans and shirt again - at least a button-down this time, instead of the T-shirt from before - but before he decides to go out, he actually he has a pretty culture-smart idea, for once. Fully-dressed now, shaved and clean, he pokes his head out of the door to see the guards that are usually pacing out there. "Hey there." They snap to attention immediately, turning toward him, "You, uh, wouldn't happen to know where the 'dressing' servants are, would you?" They glance at each other. "You know, the ones who give me the clothes to wear and stuff?"

After a pause, they look at each again, before - "I can ... seek them out for you, sire." One of the guards tells him, giving him a bow before clanking off toward what's presumably the corridor that leads off to the servant quarters.

"Thanks!" He calls after him, shutting the door again and kicking his suitcase out of the way. Everything inside of it rattles at that and he sighs. Well. Better now, than later. The bed seems as good place as any to empty it out too, so that's what he ends up doing, and he's just folded and put away most of his clothes and personal affects, while currently sorting through the designs that he'd brought with him, when the same servants that he always sees dressing him come inside after knocking the once.

He really needs to learn their names, though, but whenever he asks they panic and he just feels guilty at causing it and either drops it or changes the subject. But still, being dresser-1 and dresser-2 in his head seems kind of crude. "You asked for us, sire?"

"Yes." Turning toward them, he puts the designs back in the case and zips it back up, along with most of the tools that he'll use to bring them to life, and dumps it back next to the wardrobe, "I want to go out to the marketplace - _thing_ \- again, but I didn't want to wear clothes from Earth. I was wondering if there's anything more _casual_ Asgardian for me to wear?"

With a bow, they promptly leave with the promise to bring something 'suitable', and though that sounds a little ominous, they seem to know what they're doing and look happy enough to be given something to do too. He also noticed that they hadn't even blinked an eye at the mess in the room, with most of it being Loki's, so they must all probably be used to it then. Which means that Loki's likely not one for cleaning up his messes, either.

 _Hm_.

 

**_~_ **

* * *

**_~_ **

 

Outside, now, the sun glares down at him with it's usual heat as he walks and he immediately heads for the marketplace to look around some more. He's brought with him, this time, some little knick-knacks from Loki's room - whilst hoping that he won't mind - to use for trade and stuff, and he doesn't even bother to hide the awe on his face as he passes along each stand around him.

It all really is _exceptionally_ cool.

Children run past laughing as he walks through crowd, glad that the clothes tailored for him are a lot better than their celebratory twins, and that they don't draw too much attention to him either. Only a few of the workers in their stands have realised who he is and that's only been because he's stopped by theirs for a few seconds longer, to see what sort of things they have there for him to look at.

He's been put into clothes similar to Loki, though obviously much smaller, with the red of his family 'colors' all over it instead of all the _green_. It's okay, he guesses too. He can live with wearing things like this if he has to. And besides, it's not like he hasn't got anything else to wear anyway. Lots of stands seem to like displaying clothes.

 _One_ stand sells tonnes of food too, and the aroma of it fills the air around it. But - instead of  _that_ \- Tony's actually a little too interested in _how_ the chef does it all instead. His face practically lights up every time he watches something being made, and the worker reluctantly indulges him, continuing to create different types of meals only to entertain him. The bread, for one, is chopped first from a loaf and then pushed through a little hole in the wood before being picked out of it with a knife once it's become a crispy brown color instead.

Toasted in just a matter of seconds.

Tony crouches immediately, looking under the table to try and see how it all works and where such an intense heat comes from - because really, this is definitely something that _he_ can use as well. Whilst he studies it, though, he gets a lot of strange looks for it, but once he straightens some of the other shoppers actually smile at him instead, so he guesses that they probably just think that it's some kind of 'Midgardian' custom or something. So, whatever. No harm done. 

Unfortunately, crouching hadn't even told him much in the way of understanding it. All that he'd seen was the same gap, with nothing coming in or out of it, so whatever happens is probably inside of it completely, but the guy cooking above runs out of patience when Tony starts questioning him, so he has to let it be after a while and just turn his attention to other things instead.

And so now, an hour later, he's actually seen and walked through quite a lot and feels refreshingly exhausted. He even has a little brown bag with him too, to display his day out - full of some round and colored sweets, a bracelet that apparently senses the _looming_ 'essence' of either sex or danger, (and - well - they're both pretty useful, so _obviously_ he'd gotten it), along with a regular-looking set of vambraces that are dyed a deep red.  _Those_ he mostly only bought because they attune to his old, childlike fantasies - where he'd used to pretend to fight off bad guys in his Halloween costume, using broken branches as his vambraces instead of anything actually _real_.

Howard hadn't really approved of using 'real' metal for anything stupid and time-wasting, so wood had had to do. But as a child, it had served it's purpose well enough.

The 'looming' bracelet jingles as he fiddles with the vambraces while still walking - even though he's long passed through the walls now - and he tries to tie them on one-handed, looking down as he does and walking in a line without looking. So, really, it's his fault entirely when he almost trips and skids over a surface that he hasn't even realised he's been walking on. Heart in his throat, he catches himself just in time though, and panics, quickly taking three steps back away from the edge and staring out at the vast emptiness with wide-eyes. "Woah."

He calms down almost immediately, then, knowing exactly where he is now and smiling as he looks out at the darkness that billows around him. "Cool." So _here_ are the rocks that float around everywhere then - he remembers seeing them, vaguely, when he'd first arrived on Asgard. So now, without his father to scold him for it, he smiles and eagerly reaches out to touch one of the nearest of them; wondering what it'll do and what it'll _feel_ like when he does.

Spinning in his touch, it bounces through the air on an invisible string, springing up and then out and rolling on forward. It feels just like an ordinary rock, though, but it's strange little movements easily distract him from that bland little fact. Reaching into his bag, he grabs for one of the sweets instead, throwing it as hard as he can into the emptiness and watching as it spins through the air, slowing down significantly before clashing with one of the rocks and smashing at a single touch. "Ooh."

Now _that's_ interesting.

So the projectile of anything out here must be exactly the same speed as it's thrown - getting faster too if that smash is anything to go by - but the speed of light must then obviously be marginally different if he can be given such opposite information to what's really happening. And that's _amazing_. Pretty useful too, really. It can be used in so many different ways, like this. Like - like if something came to attack Asgard through this space, or something, flinging a knife at them could actually do a _lot_ of damage, and they'd also be fooled into thinking that it won't.

Awesome.

"You should be more careful when on the edge out here."

" _Jesus_ \- !" Spinning on the balls of his feet, Tony loses his balance in his surprise and tumbles back. If it weren't for the strong grip around his waist, he would probably be one of the floating rocks right about now. "Fuck, don't do that." He's lifted easily then, and put down in the middle of the road - or bridge - instead, facing down with a very, _very_ disapproving glare. "Uh. Thank you for the save?" The glare doesn't go. "I'm guessing I'm not meant to be here?"

"Not unless Asgard is being evacuated no. Only the King, Queen or the Princes have business here on their own." Looking up at the guy, Tony recognizes him right away, and is instantly both curious and intimidated all at the same time. Heimdall. The gatekeeper-guy.

"Technically, _I'm_ a Prince aren't I? I mean, I'm married to one, and that seems to count for an awful lot." That, at least, seems to bring on a slight smile but then Heimdall's turning back anyway, to make his way toward his 'work-place' again. "Wait. Could you _seriously_ see me from all the way down there?" 

"I see all." Is the vague answer.

" _Oh_ -kay." Running to catch up instead of leaving, Tony carefully watches his step on the bridge, gazing down at the shimmering lights that mesmerisingly run in all sorts of colors beneath his feet, "Mind if I join you, then? I really want to see that room that I arrived in, again."

"You should return to the walls of the city." Does this guy ever get a laugh?

"Come on, you must get bored all alone out here, right? I could be company for you."

"I do not require company."

"Everyone requires _company_. And I can be pretty good company. I'll even fill you in on some Earth stuff, too. Help you keep an eye out for potential threats and stuff." Heimdall glances down at him at that, the gold of his helmet gleaming in the light around them, "I mean, that is your job, right? Fandral mentioned it before."

"It is, yes. _But_ ," Raising an eyebrow at him, Heimdall seems to actually speed up a little - as though trying to get rid of Tony. _Well_. How rude. "I prefer to do it in silence." The shutdown is brutally clear. Tony stops then, biting his lip as he thinks on what else he can say to try convince him otherwise or even wondering if he _should_ just go back anyway. He freezes, though when Heimdall stops as well, turning to the side. Uh oh.

Looking over his shoulder at Tony, his expression becoming a little softer, in a way, "If you are quiet, you may stay. For a while."

Tony grins at him, perking up. _Yes._

"For a _while_." Heimdall repeats, like Tony's a _kid_ that's hard of hearing.

"Yeah, yeah, I got it." He skids again as he runs, but Heimdall's hand catches and steadies him easily, making Tony try and judge and see if he could like this guy like he likes Fandral, "I knew you were bored out here." He's grunted at as a reply. A reply he takes to mean: " _Of course I am, thank_ God _you're here Tony_."

As they walk, Tony wracks his brain for some more questions, aware he's meant to be quiet but they're not _technically_ there yet so it doesn't count, "So how do you 'see all'? What does the mean?"

"It means that I see everything there is to see. Every atom, every insect, every raindrop _and_ ," He looks down at him, "Even every _mortal_ throwing meat during celebrations."

Tony grimaces. "Oh. You saw that too? Wait." Feeling an overwhelming sense of utter mortification, he flushes at the idea, "What else have you seen?"

"Don't worry. I stay away from bedchambers."

Okay. Maybe Tony can just go ahead and like him.

 

**_~_ **

 

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**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry it's so short, I'm a bit out of sorts right now and tomorrow I'm busy and Monday is my birthday, so I wanted to post it before then :D


	9. Chapter 9

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warning: Brief mention of underage sex.

When Tony had turned 15, he’d met a girl in MITs lecture hall.  

She’d been six years older than him, was smarter than most people he knew, and had done more than enough experimentation to know what it was that she liked in bed. Beautiful, sarcastic and full of all-sorts-of bizarre information on whatever topic that he mentioned, he'd fallen up and over himself like an idiot all for her. He would grin at and love how, in class, she would call him Mr Stark - not the typical, patronising kiddo that most other students had dubbed him with - and then demand to be known as Miss Bain in return; even going so far as asking their professors to do the same until they were giggling to themselves at whatever reaction that that had gotten them. He remembers - even now - how she had defended being his friend despite their age difference and had asked if he would like to get a coffee anytime.

He'd jumped at that opportunity, giddy that she would even want to, a blushing teenager just on the cusp of his pubescent years.

Oh but she'd been coy. He knows that now, even if he hadn't then. She'd been coy and oh so clever in her manipulation of words and gestures and _poor me_ stories and he'd eventually ended up in her bed, losing his virginity to her despite only really having _dated_ her for four days.

And it was after that that he’d noticed the social media rumors about him circulating before finally reading the tabloid article that had started them off. Apparently Sunset, _Miss fucking Bain_ , had given a reporter a nice long and in-depth view of how Tony Stark was in bed. He'd been referred to as a celebutante and next in line to have the 'breeding' gene in his family, with some vague explanation of what that had meant. Sunset had utterly ignored him after that, and it wasn't long before Tony had tried to move on from that heartbreak and try to see if his naivety would be cured by having another relationship. Unfortunately, just as they had in highschool, the rumors only strengthened and no one would even accept an offer to just _study_ together.

In the end, he'd started drinking more, heading off campus to parties and clubs, getting so drunk that he couldn't even remember who he was with but always _always_ making sure that they weren't male - because while his MIT life was hell, he didn't want to make the family life even worse by getting pregnant and pissing his dad off into the next century.

Thanks to the tabloid article, he was already a laughing stock. He didn't need a 'teen pregnancy' one to go alongside it and solidify his place in life.

Once word got around that he was the off-and-on campus bicycle, though, and that he hadn't gotten pregnant from his stupid gene, MIT became marginally better and more of the students stopped treating him like he'd had the plague. But it had sucked, thinking back on it, that to fit in he'd had to deal out that price. That he had had to go out and let himself sleep around like that. It had been fun, at times, but after a while it'd been expected of him and the novelty of it all had run down. Relationships that lasted more than a few weeks were rare for him, and if he even mentioned doing something other than having sex, an excuse was made and goodbyes were said.

He'd never even been with anyone his own age, always going older because that was the way that it had always been. He was Tony Stark, College playboy and classroom genius. There to help you pass your exams and to get you off afterward. Who wanted to stay on board when there were older guys, past puberty, who could hold a conversation despite the IQ and who didn't have the risk of STDs - despite his assurances that he was _fucking clean, do you think I don't_ **check?**

And sometimes, just sometimes, the gene would come up in conversation but no one wanted the details. They just wanted to hear the risks. And again and again, he would repeat that it was only with the same sex, not opposite.

But what if you're drunk? What if I want a threesome with another guy? A condom will work right? If I peg you, does that count? A blowjob is a free pass, though, right?

Reputation aside, the lifestyle had stuck with him until his last day on Earth, and it was why - now - when he woke up in a place that he didn't immediately recognise he didn't panic. Because, as far as he was concerned, that was the norm with him.

"Good morning."

He rolls over, his mind still reeling with typical adolescent memories of his past, and it's then that he realizes that he's swamped in blankets and stiflingly hot. "Muh - ?"

He hears Loki laugh softly, just to his left, and then there's light shining on his face and he's groaning, burying his head deeper into the cushions, "You fell asleep in Heimdall's observatory. He was rather offended actually, which was more than amusing to see. Apparently he had been explaining some customs to you before you'd just 'collapsed on your side'." Tony rubs at his eyes, squinting past the sunlight and glaring. Loki was sitting on the edge of the bed, and Tony gradually remembers that this is his room. Their room. On Asgard. "I'll let you regain yourself, shall I."

"G'away." Loki just gives him a look, closing the book that he had been reading and setting it down. "Wait. Where's - ?" He pats the bed beside him, yawning, "My vambraces?”

Loki points to his paper bag where it is now, lying on the table beside Laufey's flower. Heaving himself up and out of bed, Tony almost stumbles back onto it as soon as he's on his feet - he's been asleep for too long that he's still tired from overdoing it. "What - " He yawns, "What time is it?"

"Almost noon." Damn. "I let you be, though, because - well. It _has_ been a hectic few days, and you looked peaceful." Tony frowns to himself at that, not really sure whether he should find the statement innocent or not.

 "How did I get back here?"

"I brought you on horseback after Heimdall sent a message to inform me that you were with him." Oh. Awkward. "I did not carry you in case you were wondering."

"Oh. Good. That's - yeah. That would have been - " He yawns again. "Embarrassing." As he wanders over to the table, then, he becomes aware of two things. One, that he's still in the clothes from yesterday and that they're horribly creased now. Two, he's sporting a really bad case of both morning breath and bed hair. Bathroom first, then vambraces. On the way there, he bends to grab a shirt and shorts from the suitcase, still more warm than he'd like to bother with jeans or trousers and he looks over his shoulder quickly to say, "Thanks." Before heading to the adjacent bathroom.

Loki just looks at him before picking his book up again and opening it on whatever page he'd been on.

"So," Tony starts, his voice echoing around the marble as he squeezes some toothpaste onto his brush and emptying the full basin down the pipes beside it to spit in, "You don't have classes today?"

"I have. I shamelessly used you as an excuse to leave early." Tony smiles into his brush, scooping water into his mouth when he's done and washing the paste away. The pipe seems to trickle water out in a similar way to the baths, a constant flow until you touch it's base and then it stops. There has to be more to it than that, obviously, maybe a heat signature of someone's hand that it picks up or a catch that he can't quite feel, but whatever it is it's impressive. He doesn't really know why he'd expected chamber pots and Wells for water here. Asgard seems to be both advanced and backwards, in all sorts of ways.

The toilet was flat and long, with a hole similar to the one at the bottom of the basin, except - thankfully - much bigger and wider. It had a metal rim and reminded him in no way of toilets back home that he wasn't even sure what to call it. But he had to pee, so ...

Taking the Asgardian clothes off are a lot harder than putting them on, and he's practically hopping with desperation to _go_ by the time he gets the trousers down. The 'toilet' clogs afterward and he panics, not particularly wanting to ask Loki how to make his urine go down the pipe, but he also doesn't want him to come in sometime himself and see it just sitting there. Great.

He glances around the rim, hating how everything here is both boring and complicated, before eventually figuring it out and touching the wall behind it. There's a splash of water, and the pipe unclogs itself and water rushes over it to clean the insides. It continues until he touches the wall again, washing his hands in the basin before wiping them dry on his shirt. It's not like he's going to wear it today.

He combs his hair back then, thinking back to his first day waking here and how he'd felt so glad that Loki hadn't been around to see him wake up, looking less than attractive and more zombie-like, but here he is now. The third time, waking up on Asgard, and not really giving a damn anymore. Well - fourth, if he counts the first night here alone in a room that he's probably never going to spend anymore time in again anyway.

Looking up, he wishes that there's a mirror, but his reflection in the marble does the trick anyway, and when his hair is tamed enough, he dresses - rolls deodorant on - and pushes the door open. He still kept a gap open, just like he has been since he got here, because he keeps forgetting to ask Loki about if it locks or not. He really doesn't want to get stuck in there.

In his suitcase, he pulls out a small hand-towel, and drapes it over a shelf near the basin, for drying his hands in the future. Loki watches him, looking confused, before he sees Tony patting his hands extra dry over it. "Ah. I have always used my magic to warm my hands afterward," He says, looking back at his book, "I forgot you could not do the same."

"I came prepared for all sorts of things that wouldn't be here, so don't worry about it." Licking his dry lips, he hones in on a jug near his paper bag, and pours himself a glass of water, "Speaking of though, how do you guys brush your teeth?"

"How do we what?"

Um. "Clean your teeth? You know, get rid of bad breath and stop cavities and so on?" They _do_ do it, right. Hygiene and all that.

"There are leaves for chewing if there's a smell. But other than that, our teeth seem to be fine." Ew. Tony makes a face but doesn't comment, mainly because as far as he can see, Loki's teeth _are_ okay and if Asgard doesn't have dentists then it's probably because they don't need them. "What do you have planned for today?"

Uh - what? Tony turns to look at him slowly, raising an eyebrow and raising the mug to his lips for a sip, "Um. Nothing? I've no idea, honestly, most of my days have been planned for me." Loki smiles at that, agreeing, "Why? Do I need to go somewhere? Oh God, there isn't another celebration thing is there, because I am  _not_ dancing again and no amount of - "

" _Relax,"_ Loki stands to join him, pouring his own mug, "Even my father would consider it far too much to continue festivities for so long." Good to hear. At least his neck and shoulders can finally recover from all those stupid _formal_ clothes now. "And anyhow, I was not asking for him. I was asking because, well." He stops, rubbing the back of his neck for a moment before looking over the rim of his mug with an odd expression. With what must be - _wait. N_ _o._ It _can't_ be.

"Are you _blushing?"_ Way to call it out, Tony. Loki scowls at that, turning away to place the mug down, probably willing the slight tinge of red down, "Hey, it wasn't obvious, it's okay. It's just - because I was kinda staring that I noticed, I think?" Why would Loki be blushing though. What is he planning on asking? Oh God, Tony bites over his own lower lip, his imagination conjuring all sorts of things that could be said in the next moment and -

"Have you ever ventured to another realm before?" _\- that_ was really not one of them.

"... huh?" Tony blinks, giving his head a little shake to clear it out before responding again, a little more eloquently this time, "I - pretty sure coming here was a good step in that direction?"

"Other than Asgard and your own." Loki then corrects, facing him again. The reddened flush hasn't completely died away but it's obviously been tamped down by a forceful change of emotion, and Tony immediately feels bad for blurting it out.

"That would be a 'no'."

Loki's lips widen a little as he smirks, holding out a hand for Tony to take, "Would you like to?" He's barely explored all of Asgard yet, but he knows that the majority of it is mostly city and pavestones with gold almost everywhere and _warriors._

"Depends. Is it similar to Asgard?" Loki actually snorts, coughing to cover it up afterward, but the reaction still counts, "Then yes. I would absolutely _love_ to get out of here for a while."

 Gulping down the rest of his water, Loki waits for Tony to finish his before walking past to get changed himself. Unlike Tony, though, he does so in plain view and a lot quicker but that's only because he probably cheats with using his magic. Someday, Tony's going to have to find out how that stuff works.

"Come on then."

Tony follows before remembering that he's still in just shorts and he pauses for a moment before deciding that he doesn't really care. It's _hot_. "What, we're going _now_ _?_ _"_ His hand is taken and held between them as they walk toward the door together, Loki leading just a little while Tony tries to make a quick grab for a packet of mints that he'd brought in his bag. Just in case.

"Of course. Time runs differently in Alfheimr, and I've something I want to show you." Alfheimr. That sounds familiar. Tony frowns, thinking. Probably something in his pre-Asgard research, but he doesn't dwell on it too long, mainly because Loki's eagerness is both endearing and contagious and he suddenly can't wait to see whatever it is that he's going to be shown either. They leave the palace in no time, two guards opening the front gates for them while giving Tony's clothes a shocked look, and a single horse waits for them just beside it.

Loki lets go of his hand to turn to him, "I know that you are a competent rider." He pauses, " _More_ than competent." Tony smiles at that. Much better. "But one horse between us will be easier and I know the way." He then offers a lift up with a gesture, bending his knee slightly.

Tony looks up at the guards, notices them still watching, and resists the urge to hoist himself up just for the sake of it. He knows that he can't, even if he had been taller, these horses are much bigger than those that he's used to and he'd needed help the last time too. So with a small sigh, he takes Loki's outstretched hand and steps on his knee, pushing himself up as far as he needs to go before he can swing a leg over the saddle and settle in. The leather burns at his bare skin for a bit but he shifts around until he can sit comfortably, not regretting his choice of clothing at all with the sun beating down from above. Loki clambers on behind him, taking hold of the reins and urging the horse into a canter down the bridge.

"Did you plan this?" Tony calls over the wind, holding onto the rim of the saddle, bent over so that Loki can have a clear view of anything in front of them.

"What?" He obviously did catch onto what had been asked, though, because he doesn't wait for a repeat before answering, "Oh. In a way? This is also a little spontaneous, however, which I thought you might appreciate." Tony smiles again, lowering his face to hide it, "And also because I myself have grown tired of all these ceremonies and formal meetings. And I could hardly leave you alone while I sought milder entertainment."

The sound of hooves clattering over the bridge doesn't echo as it should around here, mainly because of the void surrounding them and the vacuum that it is, and Tony finds himself all the more curious about it. There's so much that he wants to investigate around here, so much he wants to figure out.

"Easy," Loki slowly pulls them to a stop, patting the horse's neck, "Easy." Before he can even move, however, Tony hops down first, the soles of his feet stinging from the impact but he ignores it and steps into the observatory. Loki climbs down after him, giving him a look.

"What?"

"I could have _helped_ you down." He pointedly glances down at his feet.

Tony rolls his eyes. "It's not like I'm bleeding, I had it. Mortals aren't utterly helpless, you know." Loki only raises an eyebrow, smiling and turning to greet Heimdall, "Hey!" Tony calls too, receiving both an amused and weary glance, "Fancy seeing you here."

"Indeed." To Loki, he then adds, "Alfheimr, I assume?" When he gains a nod in answer, he raises the sword in his hands, and Tony suddenly realises that this means that he's going through the bifrost again. So _this_ is how it's done from this side. Yikes. He looks at Loki, his hand tugged on before he even has to ask and he's held a lot closer, feeling a lot less wary about this all happening for a second time. Then, just as a blur of light covers his vision, he feels his skin being yanked from the bone in the next immediate second, and he's propelled through the air and a multitude of colors.

He falls against Loki when they land, blinking against a much brighter sun than there had been back home and trying to recover from the same disorientation that he had felt from his first trip through that thing before. He pushes himself upright, about to ask Loki where they are, before blinking sharply and looking around with renewed and undisguised awe at what he can see. It's a forest, or a wood, vibrant and full of life and warm, _pure_ air. He breathes it in, aware that his mouth is open in surprise, because this isn't what he had been expecting at all and -

Wait. Had he just ... referred to Asgard as _home_ _?_ He takes a step back, looking at Loki, fighting against what that makes him feel and focusing instead on all he can see around him right now because, _wow_ , this place is - "It's beautiful."

"The elves are well attuned with nature. They keep each part of it intact and thriving." Well. Earth could use a few pointers for that, really. "This way."

"Wait. This isn't what you wanted to show me?" He still follows anyway, though every movement is sluggish as he tries to take in as many sights as he can before they disappear. A strange looking bird flies overhead and he bites back a laugh when it startles him, watching it's yellow feathers flash in the sunlight until it's much too high for him to follow. "Because I - I can be happy with this." He's never really been a fan of nature, not really, but that's mostly because his touch with nature has really only been the odd pigeon pooping on his shoulder or the animals that had hated him on the ranches that he'd stayed at. Or the _smell_ of manure-covered grass. This isn't like that. This is _gorgeous,_ and it's the calm of it all that he likes best.

"Not quite." Loki's fingers latch onto his again as they march through the trees, pulling him along at a pace that allows more than enough time for Tony to push aside branches and duck or jump if need be, and yet not too slow either, "The forest is lovely, yes, but there is somewhere else that I would like to - ah. Here." He steps over a bush, helping Tony over with his hands for balance afterward, before presenting what must be a clearing with a dramatic flair of his arm.

Tony's eyebrows rise as he looks. It's - the clearing - in one of the most perfect spots in the forest, where the sun can directly shine into it's centre, and it's warmer than anything within it. There is a small pond beneath the gap in the trees, reflecting the light that it catches everywhere in diamond-shaped glows, deeper than it seems the closer that Tony gets. Tiny orange fish flit just under it's rippling surface, and flowers bend toward the water until their colors create a patchwork of a reflection over the water. "... you found this place?"

Loki joins him, sitting cross-legged and waiting until Tony joins him to nod, "Once, yes. I was wandering through and came across this clearing when I was younger. But this is still not what I wanted to show you."

Tony gives him a look, "Stop it, you're spoiling me." He mutters dryly, unimpressed with how _impressed_ he is over the littlest of things.

Loki laughs, the sound echoing in the quiet, and somewhere a bird echoes the sentiment with it's cawing. "We're just in time." He says instead of commenting further, pointing through the gap in the trees above with one hand while the other held him propped against the grass. Tony follows his gaze and notices that the sun's setting. Time here must be a few hours ahead then, which must have been what Loki had meant about it running differently. He watches as the trees glow orange in the fading light, watches as the fish flit a little slower as though they know that it'll soon be night here.

The flowers cast huge shadows, covering the grass, and it's then that he hears a light, _tinkle_ of a sound from all around him. His eyes widen, looking at the rocks that it seems to be coming from, and he suddenly realises that they're all littered around the pool in a circle. What - ? He looks at Loki but only gets a smirk and a gesture that he continue to look.

He watches as the sunlight hits one of these rocks, watches as that light impossibly reflects onto the others until they bounce the beam between them, forming a picture around the pool. The light stays, for a while, reflecting the diamonds all the more, but Loki's hand on his twitches his attention to the water. "Watch." With a scoop of his fingers, Loki sends a spray of it into the air and - and it _stays_.

Tony stands slowly, staring with open interest, his eyes wide enough to sting. The droplets from Loki's splash stay suspended in the air around him, sparkling blobs of water stuck to the air, filtering through the orange of the sun's light. Without even thinking, he grabs the nearest rock and dumps it into the pool, steering clear of the fishes and watching as the next splash that he causes does the same. _Oh wow._

This is amazing.

The rocks continue to tinkle, a shimmering sort of sound that only intensifies the more light that they get, as the sun continues to set above them. Loki slaps at the water, sending sprinkles of it into the air and over Tony as well. He gasps, giving him a glare, returning the splash of water when he's only grinned at. Loki looks almost offended for a moment before he then retaliates immediately and Tony openly laughs now, splashing him back and pushing him right into a huge section of water that's still suspended in the air until he breaks it's touch with the sunlight and causes it to collapse over his head. He blinks owlishly at him, his arms soaking wet and held at his sides.

Tony then hides behind the nearest tree for protection but the last of the sun's light fades just as he does and he hadn't noticed the droplets of water hovering above him as well.

Loki laughs about his cry of shock the entire journey home, but as he'd shared this place with him, Tony excuses it. To an _extent_ , anyway. He'll regain some dignity back home, hopefully.

 _Home_. Again. Sitting on the back of the horse this time, Tony only smiles and leans closer. Home. He can deal with that.

.

* * *

.

Heimdall refuses to answer any of Tony's questions about the void when they return, coolly looking over him instead and not responding in any way to any of Tony's tactics. He's sure that he actually smiles when Tony sticks his tongue out, though, but Loki doubts it. Heimdall is infallible apparently. But he  _definately_ smiles. Must do.

When they reach the gates again, Loki helps Tony down just like he'd wanted to before, lifting him to the ground by his waist. It's a little awkward though. Especially when the wall behind gets in the way and their heads end up knocking into each other. Tony laughs softly, rubbing at his forehead with his fingers, and he notices the slight sheepishness that he's starting to like seeing tide over Loki's face. He smile softens and before Loki can even try to hide that expression again, he gives him a quick peck on the lips and a wink, entering the palace grounds when the gates open.

Loki follows him in, not actually commenting on that mini kiss and only leading the horse inside by the rein until a servant takes over. And then they just head back to their room, "So ... what now?"

"I _had_ other plans, of course, but you slept through the majority of the time that we could do them in." Tony rolls his eyes, "It was understandable, however, so I will excuse it. Mortals must simply need extra hours of sleep for their _weaker_ bodies, obviously."

"Don't make me want to hit you."

"Please do. I've an itch that I can't quite - " Tony shoves him.

They're nodded at by Odin when they pass him by in the hallway and he questions them on so many topics that it starts to feel more like an interrogation, than a conversation. He comments on Tony's shorts, subtly mentions that he shouldn't wear them outside again, unless sparring, but when he then eventually asks where they've been, Loki sighs - _loudly_ , "I've done nothing to anyone, father. And neither has Tony. We are entitled to _leave_ for a while, if we wish. After all, he has been asleep for most of the day, I had to wake him somehow." Tony resists the urge to snort. God, he's such a _dick_. He surprises himself for thinking it so fondly. Clearly, however, Odin feels the same way. Just - not as fondly, if his expression is anything to go by.

He lets them go after a while and when they get back to their room, Tony immediately drops onto his stomach over the bed, while Loki just mutters to himself about his father for about five minutes before finally giving up and prodding him to move aside. They really have gotten used to each other in the space of only a few days, but maybe that's because they're so similar. Something else that he's noticing with the more time that they spend together.

He moans into his arms, rolling onto his back and sitting up to let Loki have enough room to sit down as well. The book that he had been reading before is then lifted from it's space on the desk, and Loki starts to read from where he had left off, which effectively leaves Tony to his own devices. Still, he supposes that he should say something first.

"Thanks." Loki looks up and glances over at him, questioningly, "For taking me out somewhere. It was nice."

"I'm glad you liked it." And through the dryness, he still manages to catch a hint of something that must be him being sincere. Which is also nice. He lies back then, watching him read for a while before eventually daydreaming instead. His mind immediately travels back to what he had dreamed about before, and he feels a well of shame rise when he remembers how easily he had been overcome by Sunset's kindness all those years ago; compared to how everyone else had thought to treat him back then. He remembers only guessing at there being something a little off whenever she'd kissed him but even then he had been far too naive at that age to figure it all out.

But now, he can't get it out of his head. Here, and now, Loki is one of the only Asgardians that has treated him with respect since arriving here. He doesn't want to be suspicious, but with Howard as a dad and with his track record, he doesn't want to be _naive_ again either. He still wants to start this neutrally too, as they've discussed, and that means getting rid of any doubts. He hadn't even known that he'd been harbouring this doubt though, but why else would he have dreamt something like that. His mind is obviously trying to tell him something, and for once, he's going to listen to it _first_.

And anyway, there is the one way that he knows that can quash his worries, and instead of fumbling around for words and gestures, this time he's going to be blunt. Otherwise he'll probably forget all about it until it comes back around to bite him in the ass.

"Loki?"

"... hm."

"Can I ask you something?"

He turns a page, putting his thumb over the sentence that he's on and looking up again, "Is it in any way _important?"_

Tony snorts again. Dick. "Kind of." Rolling onto his stomach, he pushes himself onto his knees and looks Loki dead in the eye, willing himself not to back down. For one, he actually really wants to do this again anyway, and if he doesn't push for it they'll never get anywhere physically. Loki's been okay with following his requests so far so there's no pressure but a little exploration is better than all-out-going-for-it, so he can at least be better prepared. Besides, he's been told countless times that he's really good at this too. His second (Sunset Bain) reason is a little more paranoid, and if he's honest with himself, it's probably just an excuse to ask for this.

"I want you to kiss me."

There's a long pause, a moment where he really wants to hit himself in the face for that, twice, and where Loki just sort of stares at him blankly. And then he's putting his book down and sitting up from the pillows, "Well that was rather sudden. You would almost think we were married." Tony faux glares at that, the tension evaporating immediately, "And I believe we just did outside."

"Not like that. Like - we did in the baths. Before." Loki lifts his chin when he understands, stretching his legs out beside Tony, "Think of it as my way of thanking you. For the forest thing." Loki smiles now, raising an eyebrow, and there goes Tony's bravery, "Or - we could just leave it and you can get back to your book and I'll just - " He shifts backward, trying and failing to shut himself up. "Go drink some water, or something."

And now, Loki chuckles, but despite the situation it doesn't sound unkind, "Can I ask _you_ something?"

Tony sucks in a breath, gasping out, "Go ahead."

"How am I supposed to kiss you if you are so far away?" Tony's hands twitch over his knees, but he's moving before he's even really thought about it. Thinking too much will probably either make him change his mind or embarrass himself anyway, so that's probably a good idea right now anyway. Loki pushes himself further into the pillows, taking one of Tony's hands and placing it on his neck.

Tony leans in first this time, darting back when he hits Loki's nose with his own before breathing in slowly and trying again. He kisses him slowly, feeling his lips against his for just a moment before Loki presses closer himself. They don't stop, not for a while, and Tony swings a leg over both of Loki's when he almost loses balance, pressing into his chest with his hands on both of Loki's shoulders, his thighs wedging Loki's legs in between. Loki's hand drifts onto the small of his back when his shirt rides up, sitting there as though it only wants to skim against the skin there and nothing more.

Tony tastes fruit, something cool, and what must be just _Loki_. It's smoother than last times, slower too and yet, so much more intense.

Kissing a guy is really not that different to a girl, except this time, Loki is a lot more reciprocative than Sunset ever was. It's sweet, and warm and it sends lightning shooting down his spine until he's tingling and moaning into it. And when they eventually pull away, Tony doesn't - can't - move for a while. He just doesn't particularly want to, really. Loki actually props the book open on his shoulders to continue reading, though, which sends him into peels of laughter until he gets the hint and rolls off.

He lies on his side then, reaching into his bag for his sketchbook and noting down whatever he'd learnt from his day out at the market yesterday. Loki glances down at him every few seconds before becoming more interested in what he's doing than the book, correcting some of his lingo and pointing out what Tony had missed seeing on his first trip out.

His lips are red from their kissing and his smile reaches his eyes whenever he does as they talk. And with that in mind, Tony props himself up on the pillows and practically snuggles into him as they work on the sketchbook together; hoping that it's okay.

Halfway through the fifth page, though, he notices that Loki has an arm around him - and that quashes any of the butterflies that are still in his stomach, and just leads him into pressing himself in all the more closer.

.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the rushed ending!
> 
> Credit for the chewing leaves for bad breath goes to: tonystarkfucksaround.tumblr.com :)


	10. Chapter 10

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**Hello. I am sorry to give false hope of a new chapter, but this is just a warning.**

**I am working on a project that will take a lot of my time away from fic writing. I will still try to update but please don't send me messages about them if I don't soon.**

**Hopefully, if this project works out, it'll all be for my readers anyway.**

**Thank you for understanding. This will be deleted when there is a new chapter.**

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